to walk your neighborhood. Come across a cement bench in a park with no rain for a week and yet the bench's feet sit in a pool of water. I In a child's voice, I ask "why." A question for which there is no immediate answer makes me smile. I continue toward the small garden of roses. They don't disappoint either. The roses delicate in an early morning kind of way.
Eight Moments in the Pasture
ReplyDelete1. Litany
Assuming ducks
patents pending
An extant basket of shoehorns
caught my eye
Integer for a stolen moment
I lit out the back way by the bench