The End Of Our Picnic Poem by Genevieve Surrender
The End Of Our Picnic
I packed the necessities
in fine features,
wit,
and figure.
All rolled
into one package
I headed
toward the sea.
I invited whomever would pass;
whomever
caught my fancy.
But my third guest,
my best guest,
my favourite guest,
has gone.
And now I sit
on blanketed sand
comparing all
who blindly wander by
to someone
who's forgotten
about our summer picnic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 10:16:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
