The sugar cookie pink dogwood sprinkles bridal paths;
creating instant asphalt chapels.
The scent of innocence found in clover and black walnuts
admire the buttercups, grape hyacinths, and forget-me-nots
I inhale the pastel afternoon of 72 degrees, skirt weather
rising sun peeking the treetops looking for reflections
The yellow skin blanket warms the earth,
nurturing the robins, crows, and a fashionable pair of bluebirds.
In the dark margarine yellow window boxes,
purple pansies assort themselves presentably.
There are four square pillars looking like an estate;
updated but settled into a routine of security.
A squeal of young girls holding a picnic at the curbside
interacting by taking turns instead of having a leader.
They worked in tandem, familiar with their abilities.
A nap in a hammock sounds incredibly plausible, but
I return to the silence of a squeaky cat and gentle spirit