THE LAST PICNIC

scattered at the

crossroads

a pair of shoes

left without a note

plastic flamingos

broken bottles

cigarettes

and a purse

 

cactus cast

shadows over

sand and rock

 

the sun moves

past the other side

of barren hills

 

cool breezes

give flight to

paper plates

and red napkins

 

while night blinds

the desert

except for insects

and the lost

 

 


Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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