lawn mowers

LANDAYS FOR AUGUST The morning sings,with the smell of leaf blowers,and mowers hum near,I wrestle with the sheets,dreams cling like shadows still. The morning hums,with the music of machines,cappuccino brews,I fight through heavy eyelidsdreams fade with each sip. The city calls,with the soundtrack of traffic,weather reports, sirens,I step into the chaos,ready to face the day. Read more