I learned to water ski out here
At twelve years old, disturbing the peace;
Bashing my face into the creek
And climbing back up to do it again --
I turned bright red in the humorless sun
And nightly regretted it under the spray
Of the showers I took at twelve years old,
That somehow washed
My youth away
Like this:
Like Loading...
Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
View all posts by Beleaguered Servant
