Rows of tulip trees rain down petals beneath my bare feet.
Reminiscent of grocery aisles.
I, dairy.
You, condiments.
Cream cheese.
Garlic powder.
Pyramids of BBQ sauce under beach umbrellas.
So close yet so far.
Same general idea, out of sight.
I know you aren't behind these trees,I know you aren't hungry.
Bark.
Food stamps.
My heart is rumbling,I'm a nest of leaves falling apart.
Whirling on blacktop getting stuck in your cart.
YOU ARE READING
Ghosts in my yard
PoesiaThis book is dedicated to relationships, human and substance,it's all the same. Pain will leave enough scar tissue for a suit of armor but love, it is out there.
