They perform folk music unrehearsed,
Name a key and play a song,
Mostly Mumford & Sons.
I sit on the bricks
Soaking it in—
The sounds, and the chill of the stone.
I hum, they sing
In their own world,
Uninterrupted by my presence.
My shoes long gone,
My toes caress the pavement
Feeling the texture kissing my feet.
Leaning back, resting on the ground
Watching the night sky dance
With the branches of the trees and their whispering leaves.
I spot a glossy strand of spider web
And catch it on my hand—then play with it between my fingers
Until it stretches to nothing.
I live oblivious to the world.
I rise and walk the circle of bricks
And twirl, wishing I could dance.
Surely, this must be the epitome of content.