Deborah Horton Writing

Grass so green like each stem painted
the dirt richly red
lines of chalk white as the snow
and in the air the smell of sunshine

Cloudless sky bluer than the ocean
gently the breeze surrounds
oiled leather mixed with the perfume of doing work
spilling over into me

Popcorn and cotton candy
the smell of the grill
an ice cold beer that melts away
the tastes of the game

Cheers and groans
the battle ensues
as the afternoon drifts
my own piece of heaven