A wind gust, heavy-laden with the sweet smell of honeysuckle,
Stirred the gray-black feathers of a robin perched
On the iron railings of my
balcony, chirping happily to its mate.
Another warm breeze that didn’t stir him or me while I sat
In my yard chair enjoying the lazy afternoon. I sipped on a
cold
Glass of chardonnay and stared mindlessly at the cloudless blue skies
And the tips of tall green trees, communing with nature spiritually,
all while listening to soft jazz.
Yet another gust, this one roused me from my
musing.
It was the breeze of a sweet kiss at the nip of my neck that
Stirred deep emotions, making me smile.
I knew then it was
Halftime.
