Sweet Singer

When you call me that name
I melt a little.
Sadness puddles underfoot.
I stroll ahead
leaving wet footprints
on hot concrete.
They evaporate,
first the toes, then the heels,
last the balls of my feet
with the arches
forming commas,
and then they, too,
fade like the imprints
of some monster
gone extinct.

Advertisements

About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Sweet Singer

  1. ‘the balls of my feet / with the arches / forming commas …’ great lines …

  2. This puts me in the mood for the blues.

  3. Alice Keys says:

    “Sadness puddles underfoot” Lovely. Keep writing. Alice

  4. Whimsy Mimsy says:

    Love this. Sadness puddles. The footprints. Just lovely.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s