Before the Darkest Fall
The little sails like paper boats do watch
the rocket skies of brazen hue drink scotch.
The whir of helicopter days surround
those tower twins, so strong, with lively sound.
They take for granted torch that won’t go out
but they forget to look inside and doubt.
Those happy times before the sky turned ash
were filled with shooting stars and mermaid splash.
The window stars, not one by one, but all,
do crash in September, its darkest fall.
Remember well, those freedom hues of past,
the clouds of jellyfish, we had a blast.
5/20/2021
Rhyming Couplets
Janice Canerdy
*Fireworks resemble jellyfish with tentacles
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