I sat resting after a walk in the morning sun.
I thought I'd write. But about what?
What did I see during my walk?
Two small parks.
One all dirt. The other green and lush.
A gardener was adjusting the aim
of the sprinkler head.
I didn't photograph the hose,
nor the dirt garden void of water .
Another funeral at the church.
The bell tolling its sad goodbye.
A reminder that life is fleeting
one should make the most
of what time they are given.
Right now nothing comes to mind.
I just don't feel like writing.
I think I'll read instead.
Paris 2017 #75