Early Morning, when I slept; drowsy I was feeling. Typing, punching, crunching keys and saying whatever pleases. People it seems have gone on a long weekend. A soul waiting, when they'll arrive, I may not stay till then.
White plastic stool sits under me,the bum pressing on its head; and laughing with glee the beige cushion spreads. There is a park very far, but that's not hard to reach. But when you go, listen a lark like sound of an ascetic down there preach.
The park spreads over an area of 1 acre land with few trees lining surround it as big as an army tank. Though in reality they aren't that big, the space is taken by branches, poor people and homeless kids sit under them resting on haunches.
When there grows some fruit or nut, as big as lala's paunch, the bark cracks up fruit spins, drops and breaks; creating a squirrel's lunch. Insects and tiny colored bugs are all crawling around making creepy tones. The green grass smells fresh which is freshly cut makes one want to sit some more.
Children play, toddlers rolling and adults chatting around; some brought mid-day brunch, munching crunch ..crunch ..crunch while teenage brats run around. A simple picture yet bourgeois, makes one contemplate; definitely it is a hand-made moment by god, in my memory I want to engrave.
