Hi, Everybody.

I have another poem for you this week. I wrote it fairly recently. I hope you like it.

Happy Tuesday, everyone.

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The book spilled open on the blanket

underneath the willow tree

pages pushing through the wind

now speeding to page 53

Words falling into the breeze

for a moment all sentences mix

but the book slams shut the next instant

as the picnicker comes back to sit

In the distance he hears the ocean

The wave song now lulls him to sleep - 

He's dreaming of days gone past;

Dreams never were his to keep.

He wakes up and blinks at the twilight

The breeze lulls him back to the car

He picks up his book and his blanket

And drives beneath gallons of stars

Driving home he feels a bit better

from his day spent reading, alone

The sun has set now, off yonder

And his heart, it pulls to be home

The breeze gently pushes his bumper

The moon calls his name o're the bend

 Book bindings squish words in the backseat

And the stars light his way home again.