The curb came up abruptly and bruised my toe
I wasn’t watching, I didn’t know
My sights were upon the girl with the bow
Looking both ways I stumbled, I blushed
Slipped and slid through the cold wet slush
I just wanted to meet her, not to be crushed.
©2010-2011 Michael Yost
Poetry Picnic Week 27: Spring Break, Vacations, Favorite Colors, First Kiss