All the while, smiling at my silliness. On a pallet in a field I lay, Squinting up at the sun filtering through the leaves. My hands folded behind my head as a pillow. Drifting in and out of consciousness. I could stay here all day.
Urban worries seem so distant.
And I smile at the irony That it is those very things that brings the money To allow me to be Right here. Fast Asleep Early morning. The city decides to sleep in today. It figgits under the blankets of the rising day. I observe its slumber.