poetry

Nevada

By Amy Thomson

Cirrus elephants

dance in blue.

Green sprinkled toffee

melts down Nevada’s chest.

 

Night pulls off her

hot, sticky blanket,

Pours glittering, navy

syrup on top.

 

Outside the neon buzz,

the coyote’s lullaby

sings her to sleep,

somewhere softer.

 

Quiet dreams float

behind her heavy eyes.

A life of peace, weary from

the infected abscess on her leg.

 

Oozing tears of girls

stripped of innocence.

Gushing bile

of hungry mites.

 

Alcohol soaked,

her leg burns with

empty dreams and

wicked sneers.

 

Infection spreads,

clawing flesh

into flashy

human traps.

 

Shhh, sleep,

whispers Night.

poetry

Fever

By Amy Thomson

Air thick with lazy heat,

And giggles full of ice cream treats.

Trees droop for summer nap,

With robins laying in their lap.

Sleepy sun melts down the sky,

The city gives a grateful sigh.

Sky is painted salmon pink,

Framed above the kitchen sink.

Sizzling grill begins to gleam,

Nourishing my summer dream.

Cups of laughter passed around,

Happiness is finally found.

poetry

Mr. Sky

By Amy Thomson

Awake from his dreams,

Mr. Sky screams.

He’s never felt so alone.

Pouring buckets of tears

And electric sears,

Belting a thunderous moan.

“I miss her,” he cries,

“She’s left me” he sighs.

When will Mr. Sky learn?

She’s out for the day,

She’s gone far away,

He begs Miss Sun to return.