Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I listened to my stubby heels echoing light clicks and clacks on the ***** pavement, a sound far better than the the laughter and chatter of the previously escaped classroom. I mozied along the empty campus, feeling warmed by the bits of fog that clung to the air and moss trees towering from pine needles in a very still way that if not for the fog's gentle swaying I would have assumed the world to have stopped. I liked it that way best. When things are still and quiet and full of posibility but you choose not to reign in that possibility because you love the freshly chilled air, air so fresh it makes you want to fill your lungs with it and take a To-Go bag as well. Sometimes I sit and look out, silently hoping that if I sit there long enough I too, will become quite still and fresh fog might cling to me and someone else might admire me as part of a still world, like a picture in a golden frame.
0
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Skipping Class
I listened to my stubby heels echoing light clicks and clacks on the ***** pavement, a sound far better than the the laughter and chatter of the previously escaped classroom. I mozied along the empty campus, feeling warmed by the bits of fog that clung to the air and moss trees towering from pine needles in a very still way that if not for the fog's gentle swaying I would have assumed the world to have stopped. I liked it that way best. When things are still and quiet and full of posibility but you choose not to reign in that possibility because you love the freshly chilled air, air so fresh it makes you want to fill your lungs with it and take a To-Go bag as well. Sometimes I sit and look out, silently hoping that if I sit there long enough I too, will become quite still and fresh fog might cling to me and someone else might admire me as part of a still world, like a picture in a golden frame.
fish
Written by
American
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem