The girl with bare feet


Breathing in the rich hot air,
is a budding dark red rose;
tall and triumphant it grows,
jutting out its vivid green
thorns for a naive deer to witness,

the scent of spices in the heavy air
from my mom’s cooking is inhaled
by the flowers and weeds, both intertwined
and gleefully bursting out
towards the welcoming daylight,

the leaves of parched trees whistle and sway
with the occasional hot breeze
and the wind chimes dance
with raw tunes, glistening in the thick heat,

I scrunch my face
and glare at the sizzling white sky
where the sun lord shines with no restraint
on my messy dark haired head,
right through my ripped blue shorts
and light purple tank top,

walking barefoot from scalding rough concrete
onto scratchy green grass
towards the lawn chair shaded
underneath the tall dark pine tree,
I sit and take a sip of my icy cold cherry coke,
popping chewing gum in my mouth

as I lean back to read
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee,
enjoying a light daydream of Atticus Finch
with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up
in the tangible summer heat,

just like the guy standing and looking out
the living room window of the house across from mine,
gulping down icy cold beer
and watching with vague interest
the girl with bare feet lounging on her front lawn,
sweat dripping off her neck like
droplets of cold water
coursing down a melting icicle,

I look up, shading my eyes
to watch a noisy jet fly high in the sky
leaving behind a vacuum of white fluffy clouds
in the shapes of loops and swirls
I grin; somehow they spell my name
in jagged humid strips of air,

the screen door swings open with a loud creak,
followed by the sound of my mom hollering my name,
I sneak one last glance at the guy
who looks like Atticus Finch,
and leave him to be alone with the heat
as I head inside.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem