A day of leisure
faces smile in the sun.
with heads tilted towards the heat.
Feet tap the pavement slower today
a destination has no time.
The pond glistens the park.
giving a feeling of comfort in the heart of Paris.
Conversations flow naturally
on a sunday.
Pigeons
(almost)
belong on the water with the ducks.
I belong nowhere on a Sunday.
like the wind.
I float aimlessly among the streets
carrying only my thoughts and a pen and paper.
Anything is possible.
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