Birds are singing,
Squirrels chasing squirrels.
I nod my greetings to my neighbors.
And the shining sun
Makes the river reflect —
The world glitters around me.
Heat on my back,
Color reaching my cheeks.
The breeze plays games
With my skin,
Loose strands of hair floating and falling
On the back of my neck.
The world is in perfect order —
Happy inhabitants,
Hot day.
Then why do I feel so cold?

Poetry