Photo

In my blue shorts,

dancing curls around my face,

heavy, dust covered glasses, help

the world look sharper.

A horse drawn wagon,

A mountain of cut grass,

covered by a heap of kids.

My cousins and I,

 stretched all over,

freeing fluid streams,

 of overflowing  green strands.

We struggle to stay on top,

 holding to each other,

exploding with pleasure.

The warm sun

 stir up aromas,

of fragrant pasture,

horse sweat,

 and cows’ manure.

The horse moves restlessly,

raises clouds of gold specks.

A black and white old picture,

sizzling with colors,

Bursting with joy.