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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #2083135
Patches of Navy
Dr. Neuhaus was correct, though his context not the same,
There are patches of blue among the gray scales,
Glimpses I live for, when the weight of my neck
Loosens for a few moments, and I can turn upwards,
Where my smile aches, and I am a child,
Walking in the hands of my mother
As she gazes over a wooden fence,
And we sit on the warm, thin grasses
Of a lumpy knoll eating jelly sandwiches,
My comfort her shoulder, her lax position,
Where Iā€™m blue again, lite and navy
Folded into the passing shapes of white,
Begging in my inexperience
For just another Sunday like this one.
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