Lead smoothly goes against the course paper,
beats and melodies flow through the air,
wind blowing the leaves all around,
a mild rain on a sunny day watching it from a front porch swing.
These things bring happiness to those who are around them.
Cinnamon was once a tree,
Then one day someone came along
sheared that tree of its lovely bark,
ground it up to a coarse and unrefined texture
that was still woody and chewy.
They left it like that because it was “good enough”
They slapped an organic label on it and sent it to the stores.
It flew off the shelves like a bird taking off for its first flight.
The cinnamon got sprinkled on
non fat no foam skim milk lukewarm soy cappuccino lattes.
Cinnamon was once a tree.
But who cares trees die everyday right?
I mean one died for you to read this.