October's First
Sun, relentless
Son, I can see the glossy haze
radiating from your fingertips.
A warmth unimaginable.
Delicate.
Childlike.
Pure.
I watched you count the number of
time(s) the waves
thundered against the rocks.
Usurped by the number One, you cried
“Ouch!”
On the second you begged me,
Stop their pain,
stop my pain.
What could I do
but turn you away.
“Do you want ( a distraction)
to try rollerblading? “
He fain did accept,
…with feigned interest.
Trust’s Last.
S.M. Alexis
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
