Couches and coffee
and tin cups.
Things with no wires
enabled by touch.
Books and leaves
carried by screens.
Paper mail
flow and scale.
An inkless pen
password to open.
Finite routes
wear timeless suits.
Stores with few things
a mouse without swings.
Favorite players
forgotten teams.
Crust and layers
drink liquid dreams.
The ice cream man.
A hot dog stand.
Place and stay
now meaningless hours.
Mind disarray
lighting the tower.
Seven and happy today
Crayons and colors
unclear.
I'm seven and happy today
You as well
my dear.
Roots that decay
the branches must sway.
Sleek and sour
our plastic flower.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
The Duelist
The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Frommabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.