Out To The Park

You're going to sit and sat on the northwestern grass, or the southeastern bench made of pinewood colorized blue, with infamous name to put it there ingrown wannabee eyes oversee, equalized to be overlooked, hemisphere of sunlight shining through, filled with delighted romance in a day like this, every outrage winded breeze, solitude trees in rhythm to sway forward and back on tune summertime month shall be nameless June, wildly nature has spoken by the cultural waterfalls of voices overheard either way in a deeper sound upon many glories, unspeakable stories, the boats are sailing soothingly, evermore birds have flown and chirp alongside in flock

Written by
Michael James Brindley
11-4-19