A warmth

 

Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?

It was neither, but for the glory of God.

 

Hanging from the tree are green spiked seed pods.

Further away, clusters of gum nuts.

There is a gentle swaying.

Shadows move in patterns on the ground.

Blades of uncut grass flutter.

 

A warmth in my blood presses against my skin.

 

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