Leave a comment

September 23, 2014 by Wayne.

My entry for September’s Writer Tower. Promised myself I’d write a short story, but…

The sun peels away, in reluctant layers
of persimmon and amber across crinkled brows
catches in your eye, glinting and burning furiously

Evening threatens to shatter,
drift into place,
and dampen your flushed cheeks;
drown your crying clouds and part your lips
An ice bucket for your flame, but:

Be quiet,
you say.
Keep your tongue still, and I will
forget you.

The sun clings on,
past dinner
and you leaving,
and I find myself hating summer again.

Leave a reply!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


Click for random post!

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

The Archive.

Please feed me!

Taste Profile

%d bloggers like this: