Thursday Morning

The fish are sleeping,
below the surface
in another world,
I want to be.
Beyond the bushes,
the city is booming,
the morning parade
is still to come.

Time keeps pushing me
desperately into the swirl,
but I dispelled my thoughts,
standstill, I want to stay,
lost in tranquility, aspire
after one more minute
of movelessness.

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