Yards

 a poem by Joshua Sponaugle

 

Till our ticktocker tocks last–

Our grass is spotted.

Carelessly blue, unimaginative

Stands tall above you

Til shapes may come to view

Some mostly emerald–

Others not-so-new.

No matter how lovely–

There, stained soil

Sits quietly true

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Yards

Share your thoughts!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s