Sunny
Cradle of sun
rocks you to bed
of memories,
with fought for worries,
fields of weeds and daffodils
laugh in the face of
tumbling children
and sighthounds
chasing after mindful prey.
Basking towards a breeze
or haze of sniffling in meadows,
acting as catalyst to every walk
molded and kept together
by sweaty palms.
2 thoughts on "Sunny"
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I especially like “tumbling children” and “sighthounds”. Very creative. Nice writing, T.