Photo via Pixabay
“Sky Meets Ground, ” (c) 2019 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa
I am here
With my fingers in the dirt
That feels so cool and smells like earth.
I open my mouth and taste the dew like manna from heaven.
No one shows up ’til later, baking on a new tan,
But I’d rather hang out with my one and only friend.
The dew descended from the clouds for a party, until the sun says it’s his turn,
Uses its power to burn the moisture up,
Chases it back to the sky.
Now it’s just myself and I,
No one understands.
I will leave before the hour is at hand with all those strangers who feel cool because they look like each other
Because they act like each other, and they don’t need to know I was here.
Still, I return for what I can’t see
Another weirdo in the haze of a.m., feeling outside of them, just like me.
Thank you for reading! View other responses to today’s word prompt here: Ragtag Daily Prompt