Break-Time
Orange, the imprisoning one,
Shadow frost's highlights purple,
On outlined clouds , bruise etched,
With the on coming blue.
A industry drain pool,
Ravine's border dusted,
With chaos of wild flowers,
Top water insects,dance the glass.
West trees are tipped the hue,
From center warmth,
Car turf surrounds,
Drought patched, sun squeezed.
A dark monarch on a streetlight perched,
Its black-wings squalls at my intrusion,
Of his black-top pickings,
Gull also waits for my turned back
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2020
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