Brown Crunchy Grass

A Poem by John Prophet

Summertime hot, bright yellow star blazing. Day after day suns rays relentless.
Heatwave in full swing, no rain in site.
Bright blue up above, no clouds in the view.
Everything drying up turning brown and crunchy.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.
Crunch, crunch goes the brown crunchy grass as I walk.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.

© 2016 John Prophet

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Added on December 4, 2016
Last Updated on December 4, 2016

Author

John Prophet

NH

About

John Prophet is considered by many in the literary community to be the Salvador Dalí of poetry. His rough-hewn unfettered style mimics the artist’s unconventional view of perceived rea.. more..

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