Sun on my face,
Eyes closed; soaking it in,
The distant sound of people
The buzzing of insects
A growing breeze dances thought the trees,
Rustling the leaves, boughs bend and bob,
As though bowing to a dancing partner.
Eyes open to a cloudless cerulean sky.
Through the glossy green canopy overhead.
A swallow dips and darts across the sky.
I watch his hurried tango as he twits and sings.
Then he dips low
Shits on my arm
Nice one
Good luck I’m told.
