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.