Wednesday, October 22, 2008


creak clatter squeak

goes the wheels
of my little
red wagon
and the moment slows
under marigolden skies
because of you
and my little wagon

secret is held like
flower in hand
pressed up against soul
hopes so high
drifting into clouds
and dancing
with novas and lost balloons

creak clatter squeak
goes the wheels
of my little red wagon
join my secret march
to HOPE

2 comments:

lacouturiernyc said...

i really like this poem! the way you wrote each line corresponds with teh creak clatter squeak. its like i hear it and see it.

so lovely.

xoxo,
La C.

LILY-SAGE said...

You write so beautifully.