to live. I've the sun in
the mornin, the soft blades
of grass sprinkled wet
with dew. The jay's on the wire
in their blue and white attire
and the chipmunks playing peek-
a-boo. The clouds roll in like candlepins
down on a strike. But they're just
a tyke that needs to be sent
to his room. No more drama, I can
walk around in my pajamas till
noon. Dance in the light of the full
moon. Not wearing a thing
‘cept rosehip perfume. Just the three of us
flying high in the marmalade sky -
me, myself, and I.
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 7:14 AM UTC
to live. I've the sun in
the mornin, the soft blades
of grass sprinkled wet
with dew. The jay's on the wire
in their blue and white attire
and the chipmunks playing peek-
a-boo. The clouds roll in like candlepins
down on a strike. But they're just
a tyke that needs to be sent
to his room. No more drama, I can
walk around in my pajamas till
noon. Dance in the light of the full
moon. Not wearing a thing
‘cept rosehip perfume. Just the three of us
flying high in the marmalade sky -
me, myself, and I.
Request permission to use this poem