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Friday, 8
by Melanie J YarbroughI drive,
ask Shannon to turn on music
I can sing to.
She chooses pop
and I hear her dancing
in the backseat.
The sky opens for two hours
on the roofdeck,
leaving us to walk under rain
without umbrellas
with pink cheeks
and fake tattoos.
I write in my journal
how I like the sea air
in my skirt,
the feeling of my hair on my shoulders. 08/09/2008 Posted on 08/09/2008
Copyright © 2025 Melanie J Yarbrough
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/10/08 at 01:00 PM Neat montage of images captured in a day. |
| Posted by Jared Fladeland on 08/10/08 at 03:23 PM reminded me of being young |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 08/13/08 at 03:57 PM i want to get my hair cut again. i like the feeling on my shoulders, too. (i think it's better with real tattoos, though) :) |
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