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Jun 2016
A hammock, in the shade
Of heartache,
Behind an old swing
Dreams freeze immobile
The wind, the absence,
The playfulness.

The backyard stops existing.

The air
Fills the day with
Traffic and birds'
Sporadic chatter in the leaves.
The illusory fence
Imprints itself in metal fishnet-
Like diamond rings -
A silent perimeter.

The memories melt the sun
And sharp shadows fall through them.

The light forms
Patches of light-
Green and yellow.
Gold-speckled grass,
Cuts through the ladder wood.
The house rises asleep
In a hypnotized boredom,
Receding from a distant view.

The afternoon warmth
Announces the illusion
Of an evening
Bitter moon.
Vero Jouline
Written by
Vero Jouline  Tennessee
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