warm honey ▸ poetry

71 mary jane can't feel my pain

"Let's go for a spin," . . . . You told me
"hold onto your hat."

You are
high

and motionless.

floating
just out if reach.

cushioned five feet square
encircled by     railing.

A too short visit to the

clouds

Air temperatures
cool and sweet;

MOM SAID we're going
                          to have fun
laughing again.

the snacks
were gone;