A crunch to spoil the
Creamy texture I spread thick.
Celery, too much.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
I think I want a
red one. Wrapped in plastic.
Sticky sugar treat.
Plastic never comes
clean off. Always a remnant
to pick, flick away.
Remember not to
run, paper stick hanging from
a happy red grin.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
A blanket of cold.
Gentle, as it floats from grey
Enclosed sky. Now sleep.
God given layers
cover natures dieing throws.
Dignity at end.
Disintegrating,
a slow giving up of self
back into the web.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Biscuits, sad, lonely.
Creamy middle licked away.
Left on table tray.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
.
Creak of staircase sounds.
Eyes through spindles peering.
“I’m thirsty Mommy.”
.
The clock ticks constant.
Refrigerator purring.
Air through nose louder.
.
Rolling over, pops.
Rejected sheets whisper,
one more bathroom trip.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Beauty adrip like,
slowly spun sugar crystals.
Honeysuckle kiss.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Inspired by the honeysuckle vine my husband bought me this spring for the backyard.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef