I sit, bare in underwear, amongst overgrown grass,
sliding against my slippery calves;
It will cling to my skin when I stand.

Head tilted, to a grey glinting expanse of energy,
Towards liberated memory
Of all natural occurrences.

They trickle down my temples, whispering to the past,
“Yesterday I was a mere dew drop,
Now hail my momentum and power”.

I may be deaf to the drunk drum beat in the backdrop,
But here I feel my own past cast off,
Water shedding, relaying my skin.

Whoever happens upon the milky figure,
Will mistake my smile for a shiver;
But pearls don’t chatter in a cold shell.