American Honey

Tuesday, May 25, 2021

Diving into trampolines,
wishing on the river dam, 
stained hands and tired feet.
Rose-colored hymns 
spilling over spring’s stir.
Brave walks
and bike rides held by glory 
through our small town. 
Finger’s dipped in American honey,
sweet tunes echo on my tongue. 
Grasping for the moments
we swung above the earth.
On the curved road
before the water tower,
an abandoned shed rests, 
adorned with a buttery moon.
Feet caked in mud,
dancing for the honeybees, 
and chasing the sound of horns
from truckers on the highway.
We sank into crisp nights;
Chased by the call of nine to fives,
but we hid under park benches.

This piece was printed in the Volume 55: Spring 2021 issue of Welter Journal, the University of Baltimore's literary journal.

Post a Comment

© Kelli Lage. Design by FCD.