Leaves fall around me as the wind touches my face with gentle fingers I can't see.
The morning sun is slow and easy and care-free, a blessing in the bath of distant bustle sounds.
The world goes spinning, and for all it's contortions I am free in this moment.
Who cares where the sun goes at night, so long as it rises for days like this?
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10-04-2012
