It is late afternoon and I am not sitting on your bench but
Rather on the deck, reading, writing and allowing ideas,
Thoughts to bloom
In my mind as the breezes cross my face, silk on skin,
While the dogs lay underfoot and I imagine life here
Or anywhere else
With only myself and to wonder, what and where and how
I am considering such. And before all that why would
I have such.
No comments:
Post a Comment