Nearby Creek
By Aria C
Published 17 September 2021
There’s a part of me
That starts declining
I have realised
Without a fresh breeze
Warm sunlight on my face
The trees swaying to the constant beat
The sweet rhythm of a bird’s tweet
The gentle crunch
Of runners on gravel
Kids made a bike jump
Used to be barrels
I go to the creek
To purge the screen
Recharge for the week
With the sound of glee
All the colours of trees
I can never draw on my screen
They were meant to be
Enjoyed face to face
Never on a Pinterest feed