2020 Poetry Marathon

Safe Keeping

Tell me…

if the sky was covered
in hued umbrellas
keeping me safe,
away from the rain,
could I ever
put on my big rubber boots

and dance

chancing a turned ankle,
wet hair, a cold to put me in my grave?

Tell me, if in that perfect life
filled to full with hued umbrellas
keeping me safely dry,
would daisies ever grow on my grave?

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 )

Google photo

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

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s