Return to Sloansville
I close my eyes
blot out one hundred and fifty shale driveways pickup trucks, Ford pintos, trailers barely tied to this ground by wires, gas lines cable TV. I can still see dirt road, Queen Anne's Lace, goldenrod blue chicory field mice nesting under leaning timothy and the apple orchard rooted beyond tall firs where a woman in navy sweat pants, red Budweiser t-shirt is just now hanging laundry to drift upon the wind, sing with ghosts of spring white blossoms, honeybees. |
Thank you for visiting Tweetspeak VerseWrights. © 2012-2018. VerseWrights. All rights reserved.: Acrostic Poems
Ballad Poems Catalog Poems Charlotte Perkins Gilman Poems Epic Poetry Fairy Tale Poems Fishing Poems Funny Poems Ghazal Poems Haiku Poems John Keats Poems Love Poems Math, Science & Technology Poems Ode Poems Pantoum Poems Question Poems Rondeau Poems Rose Poems Sestina Poems Shakespeare Poems Ship, Sail & Boat Poems Sonnet Poems Tea Poems Villanelle Poems William Blake Poems Work Poems |
To translate this page:
|