Old Dusty Dresses

A poem I wrote in my poetry class today, I really liked it.

My drink

is getting warm

Sickly green

and reminiscent of peat moss

Made from spinach,

cucumber, and celery

Nasty s**t kids hate

My mind is filled with images

of zebra-striped pastries

and vanilla ice cream

I inhale deeply

but sputter and gasp

as the dusty air invades my lungs

It is hard to find footing

in the shoe-littered floor

of the walk-in closet

But the old dusty dresses

bring back memories

Take me back to a time

when I wasn’t drinking

green ‘swamp water’

and indulged in any pastry I wanted:

zebra-striped or otherwise

Cool evening air on my bare legs

Holding hands with him

followed by the offended expression

on my brother’s face when he saw

my man sporting spiked purple hair

My cat, asleep on a crate,

snores loudly and

brings me back to reality

Jesus, a few of these

still have price tags on them

Never worn

Where does the time go?

Author's Note

A poem I wrote in my poetry class today, I really liked it. Penny for your thoughts...