A friendly, harmless, blue sky,
With white teddy-bear clouds advancing slowly,
Exhorted us to experience the day--- softly.
Stopping on our walk,
Noting the palms and the omnipresent cypresses
Moving somnambulant on a quiet breeze.
We watched 2 ducks,
Whose softness and color was one with the clouds.
The ducks had little to say
While picking effortlessly at the ponds smooth surface
Finding some things of value.
From our command position
A bench overlooking the water,
We renounced the foolishness of little men,
Playing God, in a badly scripted black comedy.
“Bucolic”, might encompass the scene.
Recognizing how trivial the task
Of cursing the darkness,
We formulate breath-taking scenarios.
Are we not among the oldest sophomores?
Unable to freeze the day,
No idea of how to stop the insanity of those small men,
Marvin and I walked to the gate
Departing, each to his slightly sad smile.
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