Standing by the road
Watching leaves chase his feet,
As they ride the April wind.
For a moment, he becomes alone,
Blossom settles onto the ground,
And inside the hood of his favourite coat.
His silver-blue eyes watching the world,
From where he stood.
In the distance, the faint sound of engines
snorting fumes on the main road,
And the seagulls yelling irregular tunes
To the cloudy sky; of which was of a grey melody.
But his smile was warm,
His bright eyes forever shining,
For there was the most beautiful song,
Singing inside his heart.
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