It’s hot in
Missouri.
The summer
sun looks down
jealous of
youth playing in
the fields,
carefree and
careless.
Kids drown
muskrats with
rocks in the
stream, and have
funerals for flies.
Death watches, and
waits for
winter to come.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 18th, 2024 15:10
- Comment from author about the poem: I have two books available. Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems is available on Amazon.com Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories (limited edition) is available on booksie.com
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 60
- Users favorite of this poem: GenXer Shamrocker ☘️
Offline)
Comments7
I remember those days as a child. Children are cruel makes slaves of insects and torture animals. I guess it’s adults were not much better. A great writing of a poem.
Thank you.
Thoughtless but not mindless… it’s the womb of tomorrow’s society, childhood interactions.
Thank you, my friend.
Good write T.
Thanks.
Children can be incredibly cruel. Up to us adults to teach them better. Powerful imagery coming through.
Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate the comment.
Another great write, Thomas.
Thank you, my friend.
Drowned rats and funerals foe flies; something kind of out of whack. Well done.
Thanks, Dan.
Very nice work! This time a year hot sounds pretty amazing. Missing the outdoors
Thank you so much.
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