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PoetryFrom a Gently Swaying Hammock
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Summary:
95-degree sun
seeps through my eyelids
undulating webs of orange
with pink centers
radiate
a panorama
Who says you can't see with closed eyes?
For the past year,
six really,
my eyes have been too open
sight filled with blobs
of toxic, entrapping maroon
rotten green bean khaki
and gray dust
so much gray dust
with no rain
to wash it away
This summer,
I am free,
finally
for as many (short) sun blasts as I wish
from a gently swaying hammock
orange and pink within
blue and white above
What's not to love?
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