(BIRTH)day

A warm morning

The breeze takes the leaves and forgets them for us to play in

A rainy afternoon

The wind takes raindrops and plays a song for those that know it

An evening lit by our hand

We curse the wind, curse our breaths, and our burnt thumbs

I hear the highway, see the bus, but where am I?
I hear laughter, and I hear music, but where am I?

A night of talk

This is only proof of our questions

We walk east, into the sun
Shoot the breeze, and hear no one