A response to a writing prompt from Margo Roby. Here's a link to her post:
~Walking with my father along the Moskva river embankment a long time ago~
Dandelion wine spilled by some giant hand,
Sticky stalks, bitter-sweet,
The yellow suns everywhere you look.
The silent murmur of the close water,
The flowing ribbon obscured by trees,
Time runs steadily following our pathway.
To my right
The giant himself, walking in huge strides,
A headful of hair scrapes the sky,
Scattering the sheepish clouds.
He projects strength and wisdom, but I smell danger.
He’s scared, he wants an answer, so I tell him.
“All of this won’t just end.”
Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur