Simple Things

The glow fades slowly, shrinking..
as the summer solar sphere dolefully droops under the horizon line,

An unfathomable mass of heat.

As the breeze tentatively sweeps through the tree, against which he rests his back, the leaves flutter playfully like string-less puppets.

Remarkable invisible master.

I place my head softly against his chest and feel the methodical pulse, a beat, repeat, repeat..

Fantastically functional inner machine.

Gazing emptily into the distance, I think, I thank, I speak… Only to say, it’s all about the simple things.

Francois Cote