My fins slice clean through
the soft summer air, rumbling
fire. My polished black sides
dance with the white dust.
My eyes are fixed forward.
I see everything. The standing
crowds of green shininess keep
inviting me in. The corns' single,
tasseled guns' stay still.
The smell of sweet,
meadow grasses is kicked
with wet. East are steel
monsters throwing water
across the white blue sky.
Ahead, swarms of yellow
butterflies. The road is pocketed
with pools of brown mud.
I roll through it, submerged
tires shedding water and dirt.
I am Thunderbird. I rule it all.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
September
The oak tree in the backyard is finally turning yellow. I'm always reminded of these photos I took with Andrew and Nadia when the tree ...
-
Excavation They are out in the street, digging up the cement with huge metal claws. Beneath is the dried dirt, full of pebbles. Below tha...
-
The leaves on the big backyard Oak have the first tinge of yellow and boom. My brain, friend and foe, presents a memory, me talking the two...
-
A harsh wind fists the forests’ wall of leaves. The shaken green smell expands my chest, cracking me open to air. Thunder sounds, vibr...
No comments:
Post a Comment