Fresh air
Morning sunlight
I burst out of the door
Running to work
Just as I
Brush past
Peonies, bleeding hearts, and
The wooden library box
A sound echoes
From an open window
Stopping me
In the middle of the track
The gentle sound
Is the sound of the banjo
Travelling in the summer breeze
Beckoning me
I start running again
But now there is lightness
As the music follows me
Through the tunnel of rustling leaves