Decaying Fruit
Produce stand stops for fresh strawberries.
Nowhere to put them but your car.
Summer heat creeping through the glass.
The berries are wilting in the floorboard.
Unbeknownst to you.
Wilting like your love.
Unbeknownst to me.
Copyright © Sara J | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment