7.Small Things
Air transitions, hums tradition, shakes the park upside down.
A curious contrast, a coloring contest, brightly covers the
ground.
Small things; they're all involuntary. My colors dim and vary
and one by one fall from grace.
To my feet, they cling unintentionally from the front porch to
the side street, dying happily, happily.
The sky has stepped out, my shade has come down. My shadow
cannot withstand.
The sharp of its face trims my heart with lace. I flutter into
the hands of circumstance.
Small things; they're all involuntary. My colors dim and vary
and one by one fall from grace.
To my feet, they cling unintentionally from the front porch to
the side street, dying happily, happily.
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