summ

SUMMER*

three times we waxed poetic
about the apples we grew in our backyard—
that made the sun go down too fast,
and the taste of that first bite so sweet.

each time we grew them—
the hunger became, a bit less.
i languished over the garden
we built with our birthright,
that turned to blistered soil 
when our apples waned away.    

feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9b4gam/erosion/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9b5t29/silly_lovesong_pt_3/