Spring Morning

The air is heavy with moisture; a sweet, sticky spring morning with a promise of rain.
A light southern breeze off the gulf brings moist cool air to my back,
I can hear the tobacco igniting as I inhale the toxic smoke from my Sky Dancer.
There's an air-conditioner humming in the distance. The grackle is ca caing at a small sparrow.
Mocking birds are fighting over a branch somewhere in the Junipers.
I hang my head as I exhale the smoke, looking at the monkey grass, I expect it to grow as I watch it.
I can see pill-bugs, marching across the mulch towards a minuscule mushroom, expecting to find food.
A small beetle skitters in front of my feet, almost expecting my to crunch his hard, green, shimmery shell.
My last puff, exhaling I smile,
I have found peace, among the hustle and bustle of this fast paced, dog-eat-dog world I have found it.

It's moments like these that I long for.

I separate what's left of the cherry from the butt(old habits die hard) and flick it over the railing.
Sleep will come easy this morning.