fireball of freckles

 Hello Reader,

A short sour poem for you, that's what I have for you...Maybe tomorrow there will be more

maybe not...

migrating birds look like a fireball of freckles resting on pale face of the sky

sun is dawned in a red-pink cotton ball colour haze

like bleeding for her first period on blue panties, ashamed and frightened

I remember your blue virgin gaze, as I remember the setting of the same sun.

On the horizon of my heart's grave.

                                                                        King H. Ironson

(Photograph: Andre Moura - Pexels)