the sun throws rocks at me
and my umbrella
shudders under the weight
of these fiery meteors
my hair reeks of smoke
tiny holes have begun appearing
in my shirt where the cosmic
ash has fallen
how i wish they didn’t carry
all that gravity with them
in addition to their smoldering
hearts
——
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 18
Check out these sites:
Words and Feathers 