Pity for the Banana Peel
Just another day of sunshine warm and shades of farm
We walk in tandem against darkness, evil, and cold.
“She” sleeps silently while I cover her from harm.
“She” is always young, and I always die old.
There is a gentleness in her silent verbiage—showing each crease of love
Yet, I take no time to look, I work, I see from yea, horizons here.
I never give away “her” purity for cloudless nights not even for raindrops above.
“She” grows so sweet as heartbeats grow slow, and laugh as I shed last tears.’’
In the end I found out the greatest secret kept from my rambling gaze
“I” am good for something. “I” matter, and now, “I” know it is too late.
“She” slips from my grip, I fall helpless to rough sod and end of days.
What a sweet, sweet lady she was and crawl through the gate.
© 2020 Kenneth Avery