A Different Kind of Peace

I sat in the diner

Last Friday night

Red vinyl seats squeaking

Scuffed ceramic tile

Outside, if you looked hard enough

You could see the purples and pinks

Almost gone

But instead of stars you could only see

            the green after-taste of Ferris wheel lights

Little kids, faces sticky from pink and blue cotton candy

Inside the diner, jazz music blared

            Throat- slicking smell of grease

            Soggy, salty French fries

            Off-brand ketchup

But in this bubble there is peace

A pregnant, expectant, adrenaline filled peace

For we are in the Land of Children

~ Soumya 

This poem is summer-inspired so I hope you enjoy it. Look forward to more essay-style posts in the near future and let me know which you prefer seeing more (poetry or articles) :)