The fresh cut grass was crisp and damp against her bare feet
in her quiet suburb home where the streetlights were still on
as the sun started its accent into the sea of blues and pinks that
were the early morning sky.
A cool spring breeze ran its fingers through her hair
and touched her bare shoulders,
running its fingers down her spine causing her to
shiver and dig her toes into the wet grass.
And the scents of the southern pines behind her house
floated in the breeze and entered her line of smell
and she breathed deeply in the scent, coming up on her toes
as if in ecstasy from the most primal of smells.
And she stretched with her arms above her head,
fingers spread so that the breeze could move between them
and down her arms while she dug her toes into the
sweet grass and arched her back in pure bliss.
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