Embrace The Day

Embrace the Day Before manscaping with my hair trimmer, my arm hair army wrapped further, further around my cylindrical arms, like wheat stalks before the harvest. All atilt in a summertime wind where the view of the soil has grown dim, rustling above farmer-sized arms swollen from trips to the local, town gym. Some near black, some unwieldy, and some white-paper white. I’m short sleeved today, and I’m feeling right, and freshly groomed. My arms now swing freely on arcs, and rise up to greet the sun. It was a bitter winter, which tamped my goodwill, I think, as I embrace the day.