Full throttle moon,
drinking,
waxing/waning,
lawn chairs pose and
mosquitos seek,
a prized possession.
My retail exhausted feet
hang on rocks
like a twisted noose
or a broken branch,
yet I salute the plastic cup
and carry on with the
cerulean blue sky evening.
Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music, chirps down coffee, and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared recently at In Between Hangovers, The Penwood Review, and Apricity Magazine.
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