(posting this under yesterday's date)
captured
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
who-knows-where,
wasps buzzing around their
corner nest, the loud hum of a
lawn mower.
everyone going about their
own business on a
warm sunday afternoon.
The title fits the poem perfectly. :) Nice!
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