A red shoe lies in the grass,
half-buried, forgotten by time.
A dog barks at nothing,
chasing shadows no one else can see.
The moon hangs crooked in the sky,
while someone opens a door,
letting out the scent of cinnamon.
A bicycle leans against a fence,
its wheels still turning from a ride long ended.
Somewhere, a clock ticks without hurry,
marking moments nobody counts.
The world spins on,
quiet,
unnoticed,
alive in its scattered things.


© All Rights Reserved