Watching , observing
As the singer floats away lost
My camera snaps
My hips sway
And I see the lawn chairs
And try to hide my desire
to move my body and dance
One hip
the other
oops I did not do that right
But noone sees
I have no desire to be seen
As the older crazy lady
but I can't just sit
I want to move
to get the groove
Isn't that why
god gave us rhythm
Other wise we'd be a
birthing baby's tin man
with no ability to get in the mood
About the Creator
Antoinette L Brey
I am an elder in a time of freedom. I am now retired. All i want to do is have fun. Without a daily routine, my imagination is one of my only salvations. I am not planning on writing a book, it is just for my own pleasure
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More stories from Antoinette L Brey and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Swimming Pool
Clementine watched the sun swaying like a drunken dancer from the bottom of her parents' swimming pool. It was July: the slow, gold-colored time when the heat felt mean spirited, and the air felt thick with possibility. If she focused, she could hear the neighbor mowing his lawn. She could hear the drone of the cicadas and cars passing her parent's house on Magnolia Avenue, lent an almost otherworldly quality by the chlorinated water filling her ears. Clementine checked her watch. Seven minutes. She should have lost consciousness by now.
By Daniel Bradburyabout 17 hours ago in Horror
Comments (3)
Fantastic!
Older crazy lady hahahahaha. Loved your poem!
Great poem!