Adriana.K.Maxwell
The tomato plant is dying, the summer was too much, still red fruits waiting to shrivel up in the heat, next year will try again.
Yummy snack from the microwave, cheese and hot fingers, splashed salsa, quick and easy, movie night
Kiwi bird screeches in the grass, devil sound from a flightless wonder, scratching on the earth, night wanderer, small and strange
Jalapeno spicy, I turn away. Others may like the heat, but it is not for me. I want to bite my food, I don't want it to bite me.
Icicle hangs from the awning, dripping so slowly, creating a little crater in the snow as we walk past with cloud-breath and red cheeks
Helicopter seeds tossed from the tower of the playground, whirling, whirling so far out, and then grabbing more out of the gravel to toss again
Uncle takes us when the Krispy Kreme light turns on, watching the sugar drips over the doughnuts, eating hot too-sweet as the night wraps around us.
She sat on the hard chair in a half-full auditorium, parents on gym bleachers, the hoop covered up by a paper sign.
Bongo drums are playing as she spins in front of a dying sun, fabric flowing, echoing her movements as the dark creeps in and the geckos start to chirp
Roll-up armor, tip-toeing through, tortoise and armadillo confused poor jaguar and got away, found safety in itself
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