Tuesday, November 10, 2009

silly, silly.



Everything was still. Everything was still. Everything is still.
My hair is warm and it heats my face
As the yellow sun shines down and blankets my pale skin.
A puddle of water at the bottom of the hill I rest on is illuminated;
Mirrors in the grass.

The leaves on the trees dance contently with the wind.
The branches, wanting not to feel left out, join in on the dance.
Its a tango.
The world is so big and I am so small.
I'd dance with the trees, but they're far too tall.

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