A smile, over her shoulder
nothing more is blue
Twisting position
all her life critiqued, all her life a scroll.
I can see her hair as she drifts across the ocean
docile from exposure,
then there’s nothing more to see.
Something’s got to give like a spinning top in motion
don’t crash and burn.
Inside roses growing up like trees
picture the sidewalk gathering distance
beneath your feet.
This moment
the calming of the breeze
like a Steinbeck novel,
you’re closer to life than I ever want to be
I can see her body swaying to the music
rising from the page
then there’s nothing more to see.
Something’s got to give
like a spinning top in motion
we can’t afford this one J. J.
don’t crash and burn.