A park.
A tree.
...It's BIG...
...and down the hill a bit from where we sit: clusters of families and friends, perched on plastic milk crates which take their revenge by slowly indenting their celtic crosses on our rears...
Music: cruisey, a tiny bit tinny. Blaring from under the tree (and the coffee-kombi's cheap speakers).
The first day of spring in the park.
Bikes. Footballs. Laughing.
"Hey mate!"
"-How ARE you!"
"Flat white for Barry!" "Jill cappuccino!!"
Kids. Running, jumping, bumping: playing.
Step it up! Step it up! 1! 2! 3! 4! The kids out sculling on the river are doing it tough - the task-master with the powered dingy and the loud-hailer? Not so much.
Me either.
Another sip.
The magic of my girl's glass screen is humbled by the enchanting appearance of friends.
Bouncing! Bouncing!
"Can we buy some croissants? Can we please?!"
"You'll be safe?"- YES!
"You'll stick together?" - YES!
And they're off!
Then its chatting until they reappear: gripping flakey chocolate pastry, sporting flakey chocolate lipstick.
〰️➰〰️
I look up, into the sky.
Somewhere, under the same moon, the same sun, the same stars; bombs are shredding perfect bodies.
Stay tuned for an exciting 
See also https://steemit.com/writing/@drwom/steemofconsciousness-filling-steemit-with-beatniks-and-steemniks
