A slow run, the last sliver of moon just rising, the streets quiet and calm. With the arrival of the summer heat, our former high temperatures are now the lows, even as the days, little by little, grow shorter, and the cloudless, starry nights, as if by their own magic, add unto themselves.
The grass in front of the house has yielded again to clover. The bare feet rejoice in a cool, damp walk on their dense, resilient leaves. They share, between them, a dewy understanding.
Is my life merely a performance, meant for my own and for others’ critique and review? Or am I a peaceful inhabitant and vital explorer? The latter, I hope — tho’ I’m ready and willing to be a rock, dragonfly, or flower. Someday I will be anyhow. I may even be you.
July 26, 2022
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Categories: A Few More Scratches