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AFTERSCHOOL
Lie beneath a spreading tree With golden flowers in the sun. Count to five on all the petals, Never think of five plus one. Watch the building-crammed horizon, Sky no longer meeting ground. Watch the golden flowers wither Watch the golden dreams fall down.
THE END
KATE FOREMAN
I chose this poem because I think it poem is interesting because almost every line rhymes. The last reason is also because I sometimes get the same feeling when I go home afterschool except that I don’t lie under a tree.
Metaphor Alliteration
![under-a-tree[1]](http://im.glogster.com/media/1/3/45/12/3451294.gif "under-a-tree[1]")
