Here I am at the end of another day, without a poem. I'm mentally exhausted, but did find myself captivated by the way a little boy was looking at our cherry pastries this afternoon. Let's see what happens when I use that for inspiration...
Cherry
He presses his buggy blue eyes to the glass,
Framed by his delicate fingers
To see the pastries better.
As though he believes that
He can get close enough to taste them
From where he's standing.
His mom glances down while ordering,
As though she's afraid he's going to
Reach his hand through the glass
To grab the cherry one
And devour it instantly.
He only dreams.
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