***
close to the end of a dry season
i went to a park
sat on the grass
breath the warm breeze
that sweeps over the blue
reservoir waters, watch the waves
lap and overlap
i pulled out a notebook
and pen, trying to
catch all in words
onto an empty page that was glaringly
white
the words
were reluctant
having been quiet
having been quiet
left in the dark
for so long
i pressed the tip of the pen
against
the paper
forced out lines that brought
more regret than reflection
Nature is simpler
an ant in the grass
so i began again:
an ant in the grass.
***
***