poetry, writing


A constellation landed on my ankles

this weekend under the stars.

An evening walk to the spring’s shore.

A beautiful night filled with a brilliant show,

Twinkling lights and satellites abound,

Even a few shooting stars to astound.

But as I crawled back into the tent,

The sensation started to set in,

Itching and scratching soon followed,

and now days later, the marks remain.

What should I call them I wonder,

what would they be if I connected the dots?

A horse running across the field,

and mountains on the other side,

Maybe just figments of my imagination

running away with me until

my ankles have time to heal.

Those darn mosquitoes!

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 )

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s