Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Swimming from one side
to the other

A ballad played softly,
from the house next door

The pool,
cold, but
warm enough to drown in,
was filled high from the summer
rain

My fingertips ran against the floor,
while bottle-caps rusted

The bugs made of lightning
danced in the rays of a worn
out sun,
and like I,
seemed ready to nap

-e