July 16, 2009
I sit still as a statue on a metal block in a barren field.
Beneath me, long, yellow-brown strips of grass stroke my heel.

Wind whispers a warm song.
Pages in my book dance to the breeze.

Clouds formed a ring of peace,
That looks like grainy, and pure white snow specks.

The first flower of the season began to blossom.
In a barn to the left, a vent adds percussion to the warm wind song.

The card I use as a bookmark rustles to the beat.
I bathe myself in the sounds of the world.

Silence was thrust upon me.

The beauty of nature had split up and disappeared.
The ignorance of people whom don’t show interest in life’s beauty struck me like lightening.

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flute4 said...
Aug. 1, 2009 at 11:10 am
Wow! Great imagery! I can see the pictures, and feel the wind song when I read it! Definitely keep writing!
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