Crop circles in the pond.

Winter’s life form

set aside for a day.

 

Plastic reindeer sculptures topple

becoming tipped Styrofoam cups.

Muddy walks, travel mugs gleaming.

 

Sweatpants shrug

brush up against one another

ruffling across the dance floor sidewalk.

 

Sunlight pans up

IMAX theater,

no charge.

 

Fifty degrees.

The sky opens up to throw

a few more pelted leftover raindrops down.

 

Like sips of my coffee

spilling on my hand, hellishly

in some

 

generic named

grocery store

parking lot.

 

 

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work first appeared in Scapegoat Review, and recently in the Peeking Cat 2016 Anthology.