shade spills its ink over the backyard goldfish churn the surface of the pond lipping water for a 5 pm feeding yet to begin birds bank in on a breeze for a last drink blue dragonflies linger on darken
sometimes, I’m the cloud looking around the sky, assessing my own kind he’s too fat she’s too thin they’re too bossy, that one’s overly shy those are too white, and those not white enough I dispar
if I could capsulize my life now, it would be late afternoons, a recurring event of time spent staring out the picture window into a quieting backyard, shade chasing the sun’s paintbrush across the wa
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