Three men in baseball caps on Sunday’s oval: this sublime morning (like Vivaldi’s violins) elongates their shadow legs while the leashes of the three small dogs tangle calves in random wind until grown men must hop and wobble. Spring’s tickling breeze, its infinite busy fingers, plucks browned blossoms and drops them butterfly flitting to ground or to land on cap brims; perched there like quivering moths – such weightless waiting. The men turn as one, dog leads aligned; amble through the petaled drift toward a cafe, pitched with chairs and round tables with glass tops; their dislocated shadows shimmery green. The dogs begin another slower tying.
Written for Miz Quickly’s Oct 23 Prompt
I can’t explain it briefly. Click on the above blue text and check it out. 🙂
What a pleasing composition you paint with your words. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Hobbo. I’m glad you liked it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I did, very much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can see this clearly. Reminds me of a long ago trip to Italy, when the whole country seemed to have two hours off during the middle of the day! Even grocery stores were closed. The only thing open I think were cafes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah yes. We had a similar experience in Spain. We had to wait to get through customs because the officers were having siesta. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person