mellow
The sunset skips down the road. I follow it.
The moon is pale and quiet in the late sky, the sun melting and sinking into the grass. I can't reach the dissappearing rays of golden light.
Red and yellow pansies sit, lined up across in windowboxes like teddy bears on a shelf.
The breeze whispers to me to keep running. I do.
Even beautiful things can be lamented.
