Strawberries ripen, their scarlet-red sweetness staining the cheeks of students whose bodies, unripened, rail against the conformity of stiff backed chairs and bolted down desks. Â Spring has dared to don the cloak of summer – green emboldened fields trampling over delicate beginnings; and we are splash pad, motorcycle revving, boom box crazy: ready to plunge into the swelter, restless.
Strawberries ripen
Spring’s sweet offerings foretell –
Summer games begin.
(Jilly at DVerse challenges to be unconventional in our halibun writing. Â Not sure how unconventional I am, but this was fun to write.)
One Woman's Quest 