Saturday, June 18, 2016

Discords

The air in the park smells sweet and green. In my head, I feel young, the way the leaves and the birds and the grass are young, and the feeling dances in me, singing.

My body, however, wrapped in clothes to keep out the sun, covered in hats and sunglasses and sunscreen, walking slowly along, led by my patient and careful wife, sings a different tune. We settle on a shady patch of grass beneath a tree, and I sigh as I sit, like an old person, already tired from the walk, my eyes watering, listening to the discords between my body and mind play diminished chords in my heart.

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