The angle of her arms,
as she arched her back
in a cathartic stretch,
caught my eye,
along with her apple cheeks
dimpled in a smile.

The church bells rang
out the Cambridge chimes,
as the camera flashed.

The birds in the bath
perched as if posing,
a picture in the park,
taken by the tourist,
that picked up a feather,
as a matching souvenir.

The boards on the bridge
of the wooden walkway
creaked, underfoot, over the creek.

The ball flew across the distance
made a popping in the glove pocket
as the children exercised muscles
in their small flexing arms
and in their expanding lungs
with contagious giggles.

The bees buzzed around my nose
as I stopped to sniff the ruby roses
growing along the rocked path on my way home.