Breather

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It was once green.

The grass I mean.

Today it’s just brown and dry.

An uncomfortable feeling it is, sitting on the dry and brittle pieces.

I stare at the ground.

There’s barks, pines, sticks and an ant carrying another smaller ant between its clenched jaws.

Is it a fallen comrade or merely, just another victim of the bigger being?

I wonder.

I see a small purple flower.

It’s bright color more noticeable against the dull brown background.

A symbol that there is still strength, even at life’s bleakest moments perhaps?

I don’t know.

I’m just making things up as I go.

I’m daydreaming.

I’m looking into the baby blue sky that has the absence of clouds.

Endless blue today.

Such is the beauty of Summer.

A honey bee lands on my shoe for a split second, before buzzing away.

I just stay still.

I wanted its company, but it didn’t want mine.

Must be a busy and difficult day looking for nectar on dry land.

The wind ruffles the tree I’m sitting under.

I need not look up to see it.

The shadow speaks for itself.

The shadows softly swaying from side to side.

Pieces of dandelions fly past me.

If only I could join its journey to the next destination.

But here I am.

Sitting under a tree.

Noticing the abundant patches of daisies I once picked, all gone.

Only scatters of it remains.

If only the grass was green and lush.

I’d curl up into a ball and take a nap.

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