Lemonade I hang out on dry land, for a while, clasping my ice cold lemonade. I pour it into the grass and walk away, Running to Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte. The leaves are falling and the twisty Turning road that leads to my aunt's house, In sharps chapel is changing very fast. Walking up the main road opening. I close my eyes and it begins to rain. I hold my hand out.Then I look down at my feet, at my galoshes. I take off my galoshes on the porch. And watch the white bunny hanging out in the green grape vines, and I take a grape from the vine and taste the bitter sweet.