At a park…
and it’s really that simple;
footsteps providing the percussion
as their words harmonize melody,
flowing, not skipping
A child plays airplane,
with her aunt.
Her blond hair presses
against her face and
into her mouth.
Cries of joy.
Tears of laughter.
The silhouette against the limelight
emits puffs of smoke,
branching out and icing the above limbs.
His eyes drift,
sway, dance with the fountain streams,
the water rippling pool.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald