Rocked back in the chair, belly to the sky. 

The sun slips into my shuttered eyes, warming the side of my cheek. 

The sky is so sublimely blue that the clouds just crumble away.

Pine trees poke at the sky’s horizon. 

Birds sing their sweet serenade. 

Warm winds blow. The spirit rises.

And my conscience slips away.

Off I jump, a cannonball into the pool. 

But no, it’s just rolling grass. 

That sings of summertime.

Of friends, of music, and bbq.

Red cups, sticky fingers, and bare feet.

Melted watermelon, tinted puddles and black seeds.

I wake up from the dreamscape,

and realize I’m at home.

--

The Sands of Time

June 5, 2022

#AMAKACohortFeb2024