The laundry is finished.

Hung…

The breeze is warm, clean and

Crisp…

A line of silhouettes have

Evolved…

Into the most

Uncanny…

Various forms of

Me…

Gently blowing

In…

The air

I…

Am actually watching

Myself…

Being shoved

And…

Blowing up

Only to

Evaporate…

In the

Sky…

This just

Can’t be

In…

My mind.

When my

Eyes…

Can see

Through…

Ms. Vee

11:59 PM

Vera Jackson © 2013