“Love Is A Can Of Peaches” by Apryl Skies
Handing out heartfelt
like tires for swings
Poetry is not novelty
nor poverty
but every grain
of beauty and sadness
that rests in between
I dream of you
where sun touches morning
and gentle stars retreat
I see you
where soul crisps on the edge
of a fiery football Sunday
where cursing is excused
(even for me)
Who cares what the neighbors think?
I place my fingers
into the softness of flour
and produce a perfect
homemade pizza dough
A dirty dishrag
lies limply
on the kitchen counter
and this is my love song.
(©2009)
