An icecream, once the object of desire,
Lies now abandoned on the sunburnt road.
Not even the cherry on top warranted salvage.
Was the fall accompanied by a wail of dismay?
Was there an instant promise of replacement?
Or was it discarded, half-eaten
Because its taste didn't live up to the allure of the picture?
Could not even the bubblegum cherry be saved?
We seek escape at the beach;
Some find only sorrow.
This entry was posted on 2008, October 5th, Sunday at 11:17 and is filed under Nature Mort.
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October 5th, 2008 at 15:07
Gosh, that’s a bunch of thoughts. Who would know, young padawan, that you could be so deep about a trip to the beach?