The Runway
blonde hair
over long sleeves
of a tie dye t-shirt -
she’s wheeled onto the plane;
cell phones of course; headphones of course;
green-knitting in force; red deck
in four pairs of hands - on floor, someone
will score; and our grandsons
take off with our love, hugs and hearts -
headed home,
speeding down the runway,
as we set a course
back to our empty nest.
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.
