Park Life
The rain drops rolls down my face, slides silently and gently down the nape of my neck and slides into the dark. The sky mirrors the ripe round cloudy surface of a honey plum. The air hangs heavy with the weight of heavens, yet the surrounding engulfs me like the cool of an autumn morning. Swirling, twirling around the molecules of me. The streams I could hear crawling and climbing, skimming and diving around the rocks, the pebbles, the pearls of sand. The world at once void of chatter, of noise, of cries.