Buttercups The sun paints the lavender blue, and the grass a mossy green,and the buttercup flowers beneath my feet.Yellow flowers hold childhood tales of mischievous shadows castinghappiness under one's chin.Tiptoeing through sage fields, a couple … Read on blog or Reader The Rising Phoenix Review Read on blog or Reader Buttercups By Sarai Makaila The Rising Phoenix Review April 6 Buttercups The sun paints the lavender blue, and the grass a mossy green, and the buttercup flowers beneath my feet. Yellow flowers hold childhood tales of mischievous shadows casting happiness under one's chin. Tiptoeing through sage fields, a couple interlaces aged fingers, whispering of old days and one days, avoiding the Nevers. Children race into a blue fortress— Sticks and twigs and petals peeking out of wild, free curls. My curls are dull. A breeze combs back my wisps; solitude brushes my neck. Alone on a bench as old as I, the golden shadows won't glow underneath my chin. By Sarai Makaila Biography: Sarai Makaila is currently receiving a BA in Music from Pepperdine University. She finds inspiration and strength for her poetry through classical works and the injustices of the world. She yearns to spend her life creating art through literature and music. You can find her piece, "To Be the Sun," published by WordSwell. Find her on Instagram @saraimakaila Comment

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