white
is the picket fence
i use to bite with
clung to my jaw
as i pierce through the
american dream
finding curious ways to sharpen
and heighten
and strengthen their grip
to let none in
i grin
these white
picket fences
canines indeed
glistening at the neighbors plea
to peer in and be noticed
enough
that they may get a glimpse
of the american dream
dripping envy
down my cheek
they glamorize the gleam
"oh she must have it all"
since we need the unseen
About the Creator
Veronica
I am the moss silken on watered stones, rooted deep in rich soil. Earthen creature, I am the night sky -starry and strayed from the forgotten path of poets - I am, the chatter from the iron rails rattling as the train carries itself home.
After the Storm
After the storm of winter snow there sat a small bear by the name Ted, of course. He loves the snow and likes to roll around in it making all sorts of trails and whatever he has a mind to do. He wondered where all the people are, but in a way, he is hoping that they are all snug in the homes maybe drinking hot chocolate-one of his favorite drinks with mini-marshmallows and eating something homemade for he likes this winter wonderland all to himself to romp and play and maybe even catch some fish down by the river.
By Mark Graham5 days ago in Fiction
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