Down The Lane

As luscious-lime hedgerows turn jaunty ginger
and smooth-slick skin turns furrowed and fusty,
you remain true. Still there. My trusty friend;
the comforting memory of a waft-warm drink.
Still there. Trusty. A trusty friend very thoughtfully
placed. Knowing that that my friend knows me,
I smirk; a joke shared. Throat parched, I wait
for jaunty ginger to give way to icy topping,
knowing that if I wait for long enough, the icy
topping will melt into saucy slush.

Thirst abated.

Copyright of poem and photo owned by Jay Cool, January 2019

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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