Orange

Her tiny hands lie in mine
We are rolled up
Sheltered from the wind
The sun falls like pressed oranges
Summer disappears
The blue sky is nourishing and vivid
We sip it up
Bones grifting
Thoughts whirring
Leaves swirling like tangled hair
There is a constant motion
We are always at the mercy of the potter's wheel
Painting pictures
Following all the routes
Tracing tracks and trails
Our finger tips are muddied
Creating stories
Wandering guiltily
Small particles sucked up like lemonade through a straw
Feet of clay
Evil trumped
Colluding and denying
We saw the end
Doubled back
Happy to sleep through another day.