Friday.
2 o'clock
in a small town
on a cool and brisk February day.
Everything is still.
The streets are empty.
Not a car drives by,
Not a person stirs,
Not even a dog barks.
The trees, so crisp and sharp
against the bright, blue sky.
The clouds, like thin white cotton#,
paint the most picturesque view.
The silence, loudly rushes# in my ears and
permits an uninterrupted space for new
thoughts to roam.
And my breath, a small frosty cloud,
Trails me as I walk slowly and
thoughtfully through this beautiful
moment.

Oh, what I wouldn't do to remain, here,
Forever.