oats soft but not too soft
a wooden scoop of brown sugar…
Food
take it slow
through this part of the field
the blueberries will wait…
Green
tiny between mama and papa…
Tomato
Truck
Sled…
soft music
got me musing
I could be drifting
down a river…
a sandwich I used
to adore…
I wanted grilled cheese
but I made quesadillas…
“Dad, can I have candy?”
“What did your mother say?”…
the world looks,
if not brighter…
the sparkling brut wine
exploded on impact…
Daily Poets 