Marshmallows (Poem)

There’re gonna be a lot of poetry posts for a bit because I did an Arvon city course this weekend just gone and it was possibly the most productive three days I’ve had since I finished the book.

A neighbourly back-garden bonfire,
fat white clouds hovering on sticks amidst the smoke
as my sister loaded her skewer with four at a time
and lowered them into the heart of the fire
yelling “FEEL THE FLAMES” at the top of her lungs
as they charred.

In the living room of our new house,
Dad freshly returned from America.

Everything was bigger there, he said,
and proved it with a bag of marshmallows
each as big as my fist.

On a summer camping trip
when I realised for the first time that I was in love –
a midnight feast turned to sticky kisses
and sugary fingers laced through the spaces between mine.


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