the sun is hot on my face and the
back of my legs are getting a sunburn
the light beats down on the top of my head and I can feel
my hair getting several shades lighter
the bright blue bench below me is covered with
peeling paint that my hands and bare legs detest.
the smokestack above me is sunshine colored
clashing horribly with the benches yet somehow when I look
I see a strange beauty
maybe, I think it is the water. the thing that shifts around in the back
like that person at the party who
everyone wants to see yet
stands alone at the edge of a wall
the water speaks to me. I know it does
the shifting colors pull me in, I am engrossed.
the sky spreading above me
I use the common metaphor
a bowl
please excuse me. I am not able to find words to describe
the symphony of color
delicate and pastel as an Easter egg. fragile.
my dark sunglasses make me
a creepy stranger to some but I think
the bright tie dye shirt saves my reputation
my soon to be lobster red forearms
rest lightly on the salty and sticky railing
I can feel the heat from above and
the cool drifting from
the water below.
it seems to me
my life is a harmony.