The sun is light on our backs,
the tree bark is crisp underneath
our grip, and the flowers swivel
their flashy faces from the breath
of the sky that bounces atop
prickled weeds.
Lawn mowers bellow around the
jagged garden, and children's
laughter showers the sunlight.
Our clothes are loose and our
faces are wide, but soon smiles
will leave our faces, and scarlet
leaves will blotch the sky.
Eskira Kahsay