Summer
The smell of onions and lemon
Drifts out of the kitchen,
Tired, barefoot bodies
Lie on woven chairs,
Lemon juice coated hands
Stick to every surface, and
The bright, hot sun
Beats down through the windows.
3 thoughts on "Summer"
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Yes, indeed. Beautiful poem. You capture a ton with few words. Lovely.
I never thought I could smell a poem, now I just did. Thank you!
Nailed it!