Nine things
on an early November morning. The quiet appearance of trees at sunrise.
Reconditioned bricks make a new wall friendly and purposeful. Sawn timber, stacked
and stored out of the weather, waits. Dogs chase each other over moist oval as
strap-holding owners make small talk. Lines and arcs of orderly traffic, perfectly
repetitive, at a major intersection. One hot air balloon, a second and third,
free of question. Sky, blue at zenith becoming lighter blue at horizons. Sweet
coming-to of first sip of latte, first bite of buttery croissant. Proof of
existence elsewhere in the universe: vast indescribable bougainvillea.
No comments:
Post a Comment