Emerging (1)
And bicycle tires emerge, everywhere,
The singing witches in the woods,
Call me back to childhood.
Flanking my birth mound;
Your underworld of delight
Was festooned with the laughter of kids.
Left us after this small time.
Their young hands held ours;
During these moments we had dads.
And acted like monsters–lurking–
Howling from the trees.
With the beguiler.
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I like the below line ..
Thanks for letting me know. 😎
Awesome first line. I imagine the mountain, with peaks like teeth, chomping at the air. Figuratively, of course.
You couldn't have come up with a better line. The rest of the poem is good too.
Thank you. The line kind of came out and the rest just followed. Lol. 😎