Stuck

Standard

It is warm and

the grass slips between

your toes- silky, bladed ribbons in the dirt.

Shimmering rays

needle through the beams

above you

as you rock slowly back,

then forth,

then back again.

As a soft push with your stiff bare-feet brings a gentle momentum to the

swing; back and

forth, and back

and forth… You think,

“Where am I going?”

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