Have you seen the clowns?

Have you seen the clowns?

They whisper through trees.

Have you seen the clowns?

And the parrots in the leaves?

Sit by a pond and chew on burnt rubber while the sun beams from above in a crystal kaleidoscopic web.  Light crashes on the water’s glassy surface and explodes into tiny shiny golden nuggets.

The wind blows vision away like sand, exposing eyes to the darkness behind the canvas as the parrots chirp wildly in a secret rhythmic language.

The grass grows in a mysterious pattern, always leaning for the sun and trying to reach it, getting closer each day until it’s cut back down to size.

But one blade remains untouched and stands out in the middle, reaching for the sky, giving the others hope.  Hope that maybe one day they will slip under the mower’s radar and reach for the firy sphere in space.

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