A Promise Poem by Elliot Fry
A Promise
i wore shoes of lavender
feet touched heavenly ground; grew warm
basked in the sun
baked and turned
the most angelic, swarthy
golden brown.
-
apples fell from treetops
the miles to the floor
just distance dissected by branches
flashes of purest green.
-
we'll catch it before
it smashes to ground
and turns rotten
with worms at its core.
Monday, February 18, 2013
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4/28/2024 10:23:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
