shadow

No Breeze Intrudes

A poem.

No Breeze Intrudes This bench provides
no cooling moment,
not even a whisper
of air, as a mustache
beads across my lip,
and I feel a certain
feathery tickle, then
a trickle on my back,
consider swimming
through this morning
soup, moving carefully
from shade-to-shade.
Robert L. Brimm

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