Literature
i hear the thunder rolling in
sweet smell of cut grass floating through the window,
soft sound of cars passing by
and distant music pumping through speakers
strong and quick, the backbone of the wind,
carrying voices and laughter from three floors down;
and i can't see it but i imagine the way the world is turning,
churning, people moving like ants -
so insignificant but so significant to me, a nail in the coffin
of the universe and the a holy grail of what is yet to come.
hot tea and beeping microwaves frame the day
and soft blankets whisper gently over bedsheets,
sleep-time now, phones down eyes closed,
take a moment to lose yourself in the
beauty of the day
(sun
