Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2019
i could smell
pink cotton candy and cinnamon in the breeze
buzzing chimes and bells
change machines ringing coins against metal
children laughing and running by
a few cars pass with their windows down and i feel
coarse sand in a damp bathing suit
against my skin
i see boxes of fireworks opening
and the sun is going down
if only i knew this was the last time we'd be there like this
Written by
Mike
380
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems