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I sit in my chair
On the front porch
The sun shines down
Warming my face
And legs
But
My skin gets cold
Goosebumps
As air rushes over my skin
In a gust of wind
I am relaxed
Stephen king in my hands
The words rendered meaningless
By the thoughts inside my head
A plain flies by
Cutting the wind filled silence
I button up the last top buttons
Of my shirt
And head inside
It’s far too cold right now
Or windy at least
©2007-2009 ~zorflax
:iconzorflax:

Author's Comments

this isnt about me

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:iconmikit-yorinao:
Your poems are very refreshing.

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March 12, 2007
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