Raton, NM

Feet against eh cracked pavement
The large summer sun
Dyes the world yellow
A balsa wood plane
Falls slowly from the sky
Held aloft by curious design

Feet pedaling down the hill
Dried, bleached grass
Filled with thistles
The slide is huge
And hot with the summer
I’m afraid like always

Feet drip dry by the pool
Clouds on the horizon
In time for the afternoon rain
Afghans, itchy couches
And the chair you don’t spin in
Well it begins to twirl