A sheaf of papers got swept with the breeze,
Like kites my poems took flight with ease.
I watched them drift, fall to the ground,
On the freshly mowed grass, without a sound.
Is there anything new about my thoughts....
I wondered feeling a bit startled and distraught.
Whatever makes me feel they are so very unique
Aren't they part of being human....felt intrigued!
Dark clouds gathered, covered the setting Sun,
Soon light showers soaked the papers. Ink began to run
Like saline tears wet the cheeks of an overwhelmed heart,
How come I feel free....I muttered to no one with a start.