Wednesday, June 23, 2021

PLAYTIME

The sun creeps across the lawn

Burnishing the grass: phosphorescent, brilliantly green.

It chases the shadows. Protection is fleeting.

A gnarled finger of shade reaches across the fence.

It beckons, but it lies. There is no salvation there.

The air grows warmer: heavier, delicately humid.

The clouds rise up, themselves creeping.

It’s Hide-and-Seek time. The shadows revel in their temporary advantage.

This game is not new. It’s familiar, recurring.

From my haven of shelter I watch as they play. A change occurs: a retreat, a fade.

The clouds have been bested, the shadows displaced, as once again

The sun creeps across the lawn.

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