62 degrees
and I'm not thinking of my memories
Now all I feel is a warm breeze
after a winter freeze
and the birds in the trees
The blue of the sky
too rich for my eyes
to focus on before little flecks of white dance in the brilliance
62 degrees
and I'm not stuck thinking of "maybe"s
Just listening to those on the highway
going close or far away
To places, I'll never know
hoping for moments that slow
and take time to remember themselves before life made them feel too old
62 degrees
We don't have to be stuck in responsibilities