Meadow Pond

Sept. 29-15

Rocking walk on the uneven gravel road, the open sky above was limitless blue ceiling. Dust kicked up was  the sandman at bedtime; eyelids having a hard time staying open in the sun and dust. A spot of blue through the overripe green tree leaves was not the sky. It was a meadow pond. Pushing my hot, dusty and sleepy body towards it stopped at the edge. There was no bank, just brown green and blue green. Grass and water. First the shoes and socks off, then the shirt, and finally the jeans. Why this ritual, unknown. First the toes and feet, Water not cold, just refreshingly wet. Calves, thighs, waist then dunk the head. Wet and fresh! Cold drink for my thirsty skin! Underwater, raising my tow periscope hands playing with the sun and the air above.