Thinking is hard work.

In the cool sunset breeze,
The final heat of the sun
Heated the earth, but the cool air
Of the early evening mixed
With the breeze and made
A nice cool sensation. Hanging
On the hammock, I am surrounded
By air, stroking me with its fuzzy fingers
As I look around. I see the rays
Of the sun dance on the lake.
Never seeming to stop. As the wind blew,
I could smell the piney scent.
I hear the whisper of the wind
And the trees wave gently in the breeze
Almost singing a lullaby. My hammock
Cradles me and swings me
In a monotonous motion,
And soon I fall asleep,
Soon to be attacked
By the cruel and cold nighttime breeze.

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