The Small Things

 The Small things

Sitting, feeling the breeze swirling around, lifting the strands of hair in front of my eyes,

Eyes lifted, seeing and yet, not

feeling the heat mixed into the cooler air, seemingly

disturbing the humid air around the woodland that blanketed everything, 

only small insects and birds daring to emerge.

"The forest must be really hard to be in at the moment" I thought, catching the 

line of a plane

heading for warmer and sunnier places, passengers dreaming of the delicious food, cocktails

and the white, sandy beaches stretching far into the hazy horizon.

Still, the sound of the beetles and, there...

a small mouse flitting across, under the leaves ...

the scope of their world was just the leaves, plants and trees

their hazy beach, some up turned soil

their cocktails, a small twinkling dewdrop on the end of a leaf

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