Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The St. Clair flowed Towards Erie, As we walked to The headwaters, Where Huron emptied So seemingly endless. On Sunday drives I never noticed signposts Flying by. On the court, Love, I crouched, amazed, At your service game, Never ready for The backhand. Idle times lead The girls to womanhood. I'm left with celebrations On celluloid, And digital grasps And loosening fingers.
0
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Celebrations on Celluloid
The St. Clair flowed Towards Erie, As we walked to The headwaters, Where Huron emptied So seemingly endless. On Sunday drives I never noticed signposts Flying by. On the court, Love, I crouched, amazed, At your service game, Never ready for The backhand. Idle times lead The girls to womanhood. I'm left with celebrations On celluloid, And digital grasps And loosening fingers.
francie-lynch
Written by
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem