Tuesday, April 13, 2010

NaPoWriMo #13

(posting this under yesterday's date)


the wind sometimes curls
around my damp hair,
my feet bare on the
warm wooden planks

I can only see grass, and trees,
and shady trails leading into

wasps buzzing around their
corner nest, the loud hum of a
lawn mower.

everyone going about their
own business on a
warm sunday afternoon.

1 comment:

Nonie said...

The title fits the poem perfectly. :) Nice!