Schedules force themselves on every moment, the tick and tock that moves me. The wind blows through my hair. Looking around, where did the wind arise?
Before my eyes, the tick and tock ring out the wind caught in the spinning lines. The wind, the breath moves the chain- and the chain the tick and tock.
Smiling, I touch the ground contented.
Thanks to Cabinet of Wonders: Mr. Roy's Elegant Machines for the inspiration to write a prose poem. I have never blogged one before. I hope you enjoyed.
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