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Dolce Far Niente
Slowly, Mickey Mouse wafted by
as I gazed at the cerulean sky.
The warmth of a cool Chardonnay
I’d sipped at the end of the day;
had me drift in and out of a sleep.
As Mickey transformed to a sheep
all my thoughts coast into a haze.
While the hammock so gently sways
my conscious is thoroughly freed,
from the book I intended to read.
The sheep, soon pierced by a jet;
floats like a fluffy barrette
past the tops of the trees
blown by the soft summer breeze
as the last of the cobwebs dissolve.
I’ll make it my earnest resolve,
I say to myself, or out loud,
as I watch another white cloud,
troubles can take a backseat;
doing nothing at all is so sweet.
Copyright ©
Terry Miller
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