Monday, July 7, 2025

Just Your Average Friday, I Guess

 

The trees stand glowing

in the rays of the sun

with their leaves,

a loud chartreuse and still.

Between those leaves rest shadows,

like pockets of dark memories

or experiences that are ever shifting

beneath the altering sunlight peering.

Like a secondary thought that gets grazed over.

The shadowy undermounts modestly 

holding space

and the fleeting hope 

to be noticed

goes by in a hushed breeze.


~Tina Meeks