The neighbors must think me insane.
Seeing this boy of a man stretching his inelegant frame upon the dusty ground,
Savoring the sweet summer scent
Of freshly mown grass.
Arms spread wide, embracing the earth and sky,
Eyes open, soaring into that same ocean of endless azure
Framed only by the eternal evergeens now freed from their long winter solstice.
A few wisps of cotton seek asylum together, drifting lazily along cool blue streams as I
lay,
Fingers dug deep into the arid earth, juxtaposed 'twixt verdant blades and miniscule
remnants of some long forgotten mountain.
Headphones blaring,
A tuneless cacophony of white noise, accentuated only by the quiet chirping of a few downy sparrows.
The hot dirt and gentle breezes vie for my sensory attention as I
rest
uncaring
While snatches of poetry and verse run rampant through my mind.
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