my vines engulf tree stumps,
invasive with flowers.

blooming brighter than fresh red paint on an old fence.

a full, soft, and dense bed of grass to comfort your feet,
damp, from the humidity of neighbouring blades,
and the water from children's feet,
after having played in a sprinkler,
on a hot summer's day.

the brisk river of a cold drink,
going down your throat,
and the gulp,
to finalize,
and determine,
your next sip.

you close your eyes,
and, for a moment, the sun on your arms feels more powerful than anything,
and the red glow of light against your eyelids,
that makes you turn away from the sun,
and the brief moment,
of blue'd vision you get,
after opening your eyes

-- they all tell you,
that it's over now,
you can slow down now.