Strawberries ripen, their blood-red sweetness staining the cheeks of students whose bodies, unripened, rail against the conformity of stiff backed chairs and bolted down desks. 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 forewarn –
Summer games begin.
(Jilly at DVerse challenges to be unconventional in our halibun writing. Not sure how unconventional I am, but this was fun to write.)
One Woman's Quest 