Springtime in The Great Atlantic North East

The mountains scream
of renewal
but the air still smells of winter
standing outside
I sip from a tired cup of coffee
waiting for a lazy sun to arrive
I have resigned myself
to residing within this tiny hamlet
for the sake of others
but I feel like a third baseman
in the court of Camelot waiting for
the inning to change
for here the seventh inning stretch
is a way of life & the game
just drags on like that visit
to grandmas the one who
smells of mothballs & ben-gay
& all of her food tastes
like it was made from a cookbook
about the Great Depression

this town has a way of settling
into your lungs like powder
made from bricks & every road
out of town has a sign that reads
" you are now leaving the borough common-
thank you for not overstaying your welcome"
every time I read that I think
I should have taken their advice
Written by SatansSperm
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 1
comments 3 reads 86
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 00:16am by Layla
18th January 2020 11:52pm by Valeriya
18th January 2020 11:46pm by dartford
18th January 2020 11:28pm by Miss_Sub
18th January 2020 10:27pm by Jade-Pandora
18th January 2020 10:25pm by the5thRiddler