Hi,

I am notorious for thinking it’s warmer than it is, and running outside to quickly do something or the other, barefoot, of course.

So I decided to write a poem about, well, um, walking around barefoot.

It sounds a little silly when you say it out loud.

But I think it’s pretty good.

I hope you like it.

Barefoot

Summer.

soft grass

on my feet

as I run

to catch the sky

Fall.

almost too cold

to run

and get the coat from the car

Winter.

teeth chattering cold

rushes in

when I open the door

to dart out and grab the rice

left on the porch

in our giant fridge

that’s only in use in winter.

Spring.

warm or cold

not sure yet

run in the grass

cold wet dew

Thanks for reading this, I hope you liked it.

Now for a look at one of my previous poems,

The Wild Clothes

“The Night is Dark and Cold,

As a Barefoot Girl

Runs to Catch

The Wild Clothes.” -Kylli Berg