between the wind pouring around and past my ears
there are drafts of heat flowing in currents
from the open downs to my shadowed bench
there is the steady pounding surf of passing jets
a father swings his tinsel dressed daughter in smooth arcs across the grass
... her tousled golden afro dancing in the eddies
behind me ... the slow bovine plodding of joggers
lays down a rhythm for the shaded edges of the park
there are drafts of heat flowing in currents
from the open downs to my shadowed bench
there is the steady pounding surf of passing jets
a father swings his tinsel dressed daughter in smooth arcs across the grass
... her tousled golden afro dancing in the eddies
behind me ... the slow bovine plodding of joggers
lays down a rhythm for the shaded edges of the park
1 commentaire:
Please do make comments ... I have been re-editing and pumping out old texts, but this one is new.
Instead of leaving it to rot for years, I have put it out right away.
Which means, it may just suck ... on maybe there is word there which catches your fancy.
Let me know either way.
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