An Offering Of Peace

Hot the fiery yellow sun
each grain of sand
a silicone bead of hot coals
and bare footed
the grass feels like oatmeal
the butter runs off
toes bake like clams
sleeping with mouths open
as if steam
bikini's stick like a second skin
as sweat pours out like rain
leaves begin to curl inwards
around me the truth seeps
out from deep beginnings
above the blue clear sky
one dropp at a time
like multicolored targets
a Birdseye.
Floating by each cloud
again comes
this hot fiery sky is open on fire.
Every mouth sucking in pain
as fat full green grapes
are sacrificed to the flame
of some, 'God this fire.

by James McLain

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.