Tetchy
While the wind wrestles
playfully with the trees,
and the shadows lean
lazily against the wall,
I take my tetchy mood
for a stroll around the block.
The hot sun casts a critical eye
as it measures my stride.
The pavement is pleased
to see me. It kisses my feet
and expects no favours.
I can hear the echo...
echo... of time, as it passes
from present to past. I turn
the corner and head for home,
my tetchy mood behind me.
-RH-
++++++++++++++++++
Sometimes something as simple as a short walk is
all that is needed to cure a bout of tetchiness!
Vote for this poem
Tetchy
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