Elizabeth George

Peter Was a Pebble


Red clay cakes
the cornerstones
between the harsh
grasses.

The clay paints
eager hands
grasping at my
rags.

Watermelon smiles
only delight in
neon colored
wrappers

strung amongst the grasslings.
Toes trod amongst
Pebbles wishing
to be cornerstones.



Backward   |   Issue Zero   |   Forward