Summer
smells like gasoline
And
forgotten opportunities.
It’s full
of orangish dusks
And
burnt pink mornings,
Concrete cracking heat
And
cooler midnight mournings.
It drains and sours
Slowly
melting with rashes,
But
it lazily lunges
into Fall
With romance,
sweat,
and
passion.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
great poetry.
Post a Comment