Saturday, April 20, 2013

Lazy Afternoons

Lazy afternoons,
Feet crossed gently over each other peak out of the twisted sheet,
Flapping like a butterfly over my toes with the flutter of the filmy curtains above my head
Mind moves slow
Slow and careful like I tiptoe over slippery black rocks in the riverbed
Thoughts hold hands with daydreams
They contra dance in slow motion,
Let go
And doe-c-doe
Somehow I smell cinnamon
On homemade bread
But how?
Perhaps it is wafting up from the apartment beneath me,
Someone else's less lazy, lazy afternoon
Cars below purr
This part of town is quiet on weekends,
Without the cars and people I notice the trees more,
In my mind I take a walk through my neighborhood,
Turn Right, cross the street, pass the empada store that seems to have shut down,
Watch people eat salgados and get brain freezes from cups dripping with açaí
Turn Left,
Even quieter,
The street gently slopes upward and someone is walking their two tiny dogs,
I wonder what those dogs do all day,
They smell cinnamon and fresh bread,
And listen intently to the birds that nest in the tree just beyond the balcony
I sit on the bench under the tree in the praça,
I watch the busses pass
And the fountain purrs louder than their engines,
I close my eyes and wake
In my bed beneath the window,
Twisted gently in my sheet

Sweet lullabies and sunshine,

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