Warm ceramic tiles brushing shoulders with sweaty palms…
Motors purring cool the summer heat into submission…
Unwanted cd’s dangle from string spinning, sparkling as the sun turns this make shift mobile into art…
A welcomed breeze high fives the leaves as it blows my journal’s ribbon bookmark from its home…
Lost in a place of being found thankfully unconcerned.
Nameless blue petals cast across the courtyard,
Like pennies in a wishing well, each holding a world of hopes and dreams…
Aging vines grow down and browning as they go,
covering afternoon sky & sweet corn yellow lattice after lattice…
A dozen ledges boasting life and terra cotta tempt high rises to envy and shame as their sullen beige shade becomes a casket of normality.
Yesterday’s rain abandoned in the gutters now trickles its way from the roof surprising the trail of ants marching toward the sky against orders.
The afternoon, the garden lamps
And the empty pots hiding on our balcony all rest away the day…
But not the lonely bird that calls like an echo in an empty hall,
Bouncing and bellowing sound creeping into every cracked facade in this intersection of peace and fading memories of thunder.