April 5, 2009
The water runs like a drippy faucet down the rock to the pond where my toes experience the joy of running water. It was cool outside, slight breeze brings along traces of sweet orchards, sweet honey of bees as the winds crawls in on a harder note. My feet sing in the pond my bottom in the soft grass that brings along wet remnants of dew. I’m in a place where my toes touch the water where I smell dew and feel the breeze.

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