A Single Slip

Written for Twelve Shots of Summer 2020: Seventh Soul - Week 8...


Shimmering weather as light as a feather,
Standing along the bend I hold my tether,
A single sunshade is in my grasp,
Even when the wind will blast,
Everything has flung among the wrung,
Tumbling away, catching the golden rays,
To my dismay are the empty trays,
That was when all was not okay,

Glinting strong in the golden rays,
Gusts of rust goes around my world,
Covering my eyes, catching in my mouth,
The taste has never been so wrong,
I cannot help but gasp as I strengthen my grasp,
Swallowing more but have not shared a laugh,
As I turned around and found on the ground,
Parts of cars withered away, they have decayed!

When has the time come for things to rot?
Yesterday everything was fine, it was divine,
I want to cry, to scream, to make a stream,
It is like I am experiencing a ream,
Nothing makes sense, I am so tense,
But I am alone of no defence,
There is no harm, there is no ill,
All I carry is my shade, it is definitely no blade,

Scared I am the more I tarry,
Darkness grows steeper than the one I cast,
Why is it coming so fast? I cannot last!
Oh what is to befall me before supper?
I am frozen even when the breeze is nice,
The waters should be enough to be an entice,
I am not even carrying a light to guide my way,
Should all that I do is go and lay?

Nay, I shall not be so foolish,
Even when the shadows are ghoulish,
I am a grown adult, not a mere child,
When did my imagination go so wild?
I inhale and tug my sunshade closer,
I shake it up with a swing of my arm,
And no more than brief do I get my reprieve,
When my mind is naught but contrived.


- End -