Written three months ago.
A Summer Walk
Clovers grow in the humid soil.Behind the Park's bench by the shade of a chestnut tree.
(I always start my walking from here).
There is a greenhouse effect in this small sanctuary at the End of my street, where Doves, Robins, and Rooks sing and squawk loudly at once in a cacophony that sounds perfect and miraculously beautiful to me.
***
...(It's the seventh lap I've done) while,
Incandescent light mirrors made of concrete reflect the brassy flash bathing from the sky.
I am walking through the middle of the street with a blinding white luminance that is coming from above and below, hitting my face heavily, like a hammer over a piece of steel on an old, worn-out anvil.
Trees and parking cars are in an endless row, guarding me side by side over a road that bifurcates a couple of miles ahead, and all of it, below the clearest of the Horizons. (It is almost 6 a.m.)
It is quiet here in the early morning.
Everybody will leave for work in a few minutes,
And I am feeling the beads of sweat sliding down
the back of my neck and all over my Face and Body
As I am getting near home.
Summer is almost here,
right around the corner.
(And it will likely be one of the hottest ever).
Poetry by Golden Minotaur
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Written on 2025-09-20 at 17:44
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