San Antonio

by Sarah | April 8, 2018
Poetry Contest 2017


Branches sway

Like swings to the sun.

Bright baby jewels embellish.

Brushes of the warmest green,

A mossy mountain,

An envy.

A golden-freckled thing.

It's not Eden

Or even Kansas.

No rainbows or brick roads.

But a sun that opens like an oven

And a periscope sky

Ah, trees that try to choke you

If not for the view from inside.

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