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.
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