Nothing On But The Radio

Soaking in the sunshine, 

Basking on a warm slab of granite,

The river whispers,


The smell of clove on my skin,

Mixes with vanilla scented lotion,

And my hat is blown away on a breeze,


A bird is bathing beside me,

In a small pool,

She does not mind my nakedness,


A single early leaf,

Flutters lightly from the tree line,

Like a butterfly, it lands on my shoulders,


I smile in summer lassitude,

Even as the foliage yellows,

With fingertips trailing the current.


Share Your Thoughts...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s