Spring in SoDak
Spring evening
The music is faint, it leaks from a balcony where people shuttered from a long winter have thrown open doors, fired up barbecue grills.
They drag canvas sling chairs into the sun, the one going down, but still warm as daylight saving time begins to pay its dividends.
A glass of wine goes perfectly with the barefootness on the balcony.
A favorite song cues up on the changer; shirtsleeves are for now short, or rolled up on white-skin forearms.
The smell of barbecue smoke mingles with lit, scented candles. Breezes circulate dead winter air. Curtains rise and fall like lungs.
The hellos even seem sweeter.
The music is faint, it leaks from a balcony where people shuttered from a long winter have thrown open doors, fired up barbecue grills.
They drag canvas sling chairs into the sun, the one going down, but still warm as daylight saving time begins to pay its dividends.
A glass of wine goes perfectly with the barefootness on the balcony.
A favorite song cues up on the changer; shirtsleeves are for now short, or rolled up on white-skin forearms.
The smell of barbecue smoke mingles with lit, scented candles. Breezes circulate dead winter air. Curtains rise and fall like lungs.
The hellos even seem sweeter.
Comments
That was seriously evocative. I could almost be there. Wish I was *sigh*
Nice work.