The Passanger On The First Seat!

I saw zen in a corner, waved at it and it answered me. Woke up one morning, teeth grinning all the way to Neptune, smile ready with its own parking space and flag, hair style screaming Doolly Parton, hollering I am here. Dressed to the nines, spirit running through the beautiful leaf-peeping red, yellow and orange pigments autumn canvas that is self, I hit the street. Radiant aroma reading bouquet of roses permeated the air. Mood, a tale for the ages moment written in stone living in a mansion, switched flags at the track. Flashlights of wisdom, makeshift of charisma and puree of dotted blunders thrown in a basket delivered to the massive carved wooden door, loving every butterfly that graced the air that I breathe. Grateful for the open field and luggage of yesterday, an accidental passanger, I hopped on the moving train, taking the first seat, on the right hand side, enjoying the ride on the caravan of possibilities that is tomorrow.

And quietly I sit…

© Angela Aguiar

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