July, in April
It is beautiful and bright. Sitting on a chair, in the lush green of the front yard. Sweating slow. Late April and it is in the 80′s. Every once in a while a cool breeze curves around from the back of the house — bringing with it a pale white confetti of flower petals. They swirl and twist in the air. A butterfly the exact shade (but on a larger scale) just fluttered by. Then, again.
It’s Sunday, and I’m done with work for the day. So good to be home.