by Brit Herz

Created on: September 03, 2009

The damp smell

Hangs in my nose

As soon as I enter

The cooling air.

With a zipped up jacket

And old sneakers

I walk out into

The back yard.

The ground is alive

Breathing and moving

As the wind churns

And makes them dance.

I run underneath

Wanting to be bathed

In the colors

Like a million stones.

Their dampness from

The morning dew

Makes little pools

In their creases.

I come back in

Cold and wet

I lost my jacket

Amidst the red sea.

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