tagNon-Erotic PoetryNew White Shoes, Red Laces

New White Shoes, Red Laces

byRandi Grail©

Laughter like dry cider.
Fridge chilled, extra ice
in september dust and scarred earth
beaten senseless by the life giver above.

And little feet flutter
not patter,
skim the surface on a mirage
in new white shoes, red laces,
two strawberry mints dancing.

Such a blessing to watch,
to listen, indulge in that melody
from a gap of generation.

Those small faces
that don't care
their transmission is full power,
all frequencies channeling soul.

A microwave beacon
warming slightly
all things alive
nearby.

 

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byRandi Grail© 4 comments/ 1587 views/ 0 favorites

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