Breeze Poem by bob barci

This early August afternoon
brings with it, a cool breeze.
I am drawn out to the front porch
where I sit to watch and listen
and absorb the cooling, afternoon breeze.
The breeze brings with it
a special brand of magic.
With it, I am comforted, trouble-free,
and filled with a child-like sense of innocence.
Through the corner of my eye,
I spot the older man next door.
He glances at me now and then,
so I wave to him and he waves back.
On the other side,
the young chiropractor yells over that
he wants to check out my bones.
With a smile, I call him a pervert, and he agrees.
The cool breeze of this August afternoon
lingers on into the night,
and holds onto its magic,
even after I close my eyes.