The clouds were stretched
accross the sky like spiderwebs.
The eerie shadow of the moon
cast shadows upon the ground, making everything seem contorted.
Sticky juice running swiftly
onto my fingers, making the ice cream soup in a cone.
The dead elm trees reached
out with finger-like branches covering the road from any sun.
Jumbled puzzle pieces of
sidewalk lay ahed of me, warning.
Snapping on the line, the
well-warn blue jeans hung.
The sizzling blacktop burnt
my feet as I ran down the street.
Everyone looked bedragge,
too tired to keep their eyes open, just happy to be on their way home.
The clink of the bike rang
in my ears, showing everyone I was free.
A pleasant crunch of the
ripe apple falling away into my mouth.
The softball slammed into
the bat, driving it over the back fence.
The teacher droaned on, but
not hindering my sleep.