Walking through the college greens
On a warm night
Some random song stuck in my head
Playing on repeat once again
Smelling the new flowers blooming
In the garden near my favorite picnic table
Taking the time to sit
And watch the sun set beneath the crescent moon
Humid air drifts through the streets
Carrying the scent of damp leaves
The birds sing songs of joy
While gathering food for their young
Flowers begin to sprout among the grass and moss
Pride of bovine kind
Wanderer of the mountains
None could best a yak
On the windowsill
He sat,
Staring at the sky,
Writing words
Known only in his head,
Leaning against a reflection,
Watching the moon,
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