Summer Fruits

There’s been a murder

Somebody’s got a gun

She’s still on the loose

Something tells me that the cops

Aren’t going to get much sleep tonight

The evidence has already

Been tampered with

When everyone drained the swamp dry

Must have been great.

Crimson blood oozing into a wet canvas

Spirits of the summer fruit

Carried by the mystic steam

The teabag curls

As the teaspoon twirls

Swirling the grassy grave

The corpse smell of strawberry punches

Through the raspberry remains

The apple flash and marigold petals

Unable to be identified

A delicious murder

Offering a plethora of healthy promises

The souls of the fruit will be reincarnated

Back to their birthplace

Beneath a topaz sun