"Weightless Time"


The days are still dipped

with lemons, the way it’s always been,

but the air is filled with wilting dandelions.

They used to be so white and precious

and now strawberry sunsets are burning,


in a way that makes seagulls shriek.


We are b-l-o-w-ing fragile dreams

over hilltops and

over hilltops I see us, different,

in another world.


Maybe plums have always been

this crimson against the snow.


I guess we were just filled

with growing up.

About the author

Lily Smythe is a full-time literature postgraduate with a passion for reading and writing poetry. Inspired by the short stories of Paul Jennings, she is currently working on her own collection of flash fiction.

You can find her on Twitter and Medium @lilysmytheuk



Lily Smythe