Saturday sounds
Weekend always tastes differently
Saturday sounds outside my window,
A band playing in front of the pub.
They will be back tomorrow.
It is summer for a bit longer.
Sun is promised as it was for today
Saturday sounds of cars driving by,
Off to the shops for the last bits of food,
For Sunday afternoon’s barbecue.
I took the day off, reading since 9.
A thriller to keep the world at bay.
Saturday sounds outside my window
Scissor’s flying in the hairdresser's hands,
Two of them across the road.
Enjoying the music too with the door wide open.
My armchair is locking me in an embrace.
About the Creator
Jeannine Kauffmann
Poetry writer in the early morning. Poetry as a wake up call. Then later I draw lines and colours. I have a page on Instagram my art other than words although it contains words too. Titles are important to finish a piece like a full stop.
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Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Craven2 days ago in Fiction
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