quarta-feira, 25 de junho de 2025

Just on four

 he ran in the wind
his white haired fringe flapped
the dark pond wouldn't have stopped him
Gumboots nipped him under the knee

he said goodbye to three
sprinted after the ducks
Well awkwardly ran 
The trees couldn't stop him

excitement glued to his face
the wind showcasing it
The cackle of his four year old mouth
rising and falling with struggling extended knee

in attempt to accelereate his legs
Along the edge of the dark pond
where every onlooking waterfowl floated

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