mock orange



the day
was a stinker

every time I saw the sun
it burned me

every time
I looked into the orb
I went blind

now tangerine
the sky
so benign
is nothing but a stinker

no apology
no why
no promise
to put its ire

just a passive

good night

splayed in orange
across the face
of the clouds

a sugar mock
left behind
to remind me

left behind
to tease

© Frank Prem, 2017

February 2017 Poem #01: a towel to ride

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