Sunday

White flakes of heaven fall from the sky.
Tendrils of my lungs move upwards.
I look to my left and see two squirrels,
Bushy tails and bright eyes swiftly navigating the lush forest.

One chases the other upwards,
Winding their way upwards around the rough bark.

Inhale. Exhale.
Sizzling echoes of my youth reverberate in my ears.
Inhale. Exhale.
Time begins to slow as the vapor reaches into my chest.

I blink as the grey turns to a hue of lavender.
All around me the woods begin to shift.
The squirrels can no longer be seen.
Nobody is around.

Still, everything moves upwards.
Slowly, without a purpose.

2/6/17 // 9:20 am

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Sunday

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