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The Hammock

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The warm sunlight gives just enough warmth to keep me from shivering,
the late afternoon air is brisk and cold, refreshing.
I taste fall
A cold air that has the harshness of trees getting ready for winter.
The sound of birds chirping dies down and the smell of a barn dissipates
you can see the wind blowing it away.
The hammock, old and ripped is a tribute to past.

Time goes by here seemingly without anyone noticing.
100 years or 2 minutes? 20 seconds or 20 minutes? It doesn’t matter.
Life is rhythmic, just sitting in a faded, old hammock.
It sways as a pendulum as time slowly slows down.
It is an escape from a world where time is too fast.
Its pendulous swing is sweet and sour
But time does pass, the pendulum does not stop
Childish hopes and dreams wash away
Leaving room for more.
Mature, thoughtful complete thought.
Remember child memories,

The hammock now has broken.





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