Here and Now

Here and Now
As the rusty windmill
turns against the cotton clouds,
the chirp of the spring birds
interrupts the whispering wind,
stirring up
the hot, stale air.

Dry grass sighs
as it sways
from side to side,
and the water
reflects the golden sun.
This is where I want to stay,
Here sitting outside,
now in this hour of dusk.

Here and now.






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