You leave your sandals near the bench and stake claim to the grass around. Like the other man, bare-armed and with a water bottle aslant against the sky pouring water in the throat. Triangularly drinking. Lays claim to bench in bare arms,making nose noises.

I acknowledge. I leave my sandals near the other bench. But triangular drinker goes.

Look, there is another one, a grass-footer. A snake on the grass. He makes large oval circles, progressively expanding.My circle is inside his oval circle,my circumference touching his at different points.But  I avoid snake-touching. Carefully. Near the green bench where the cuckoo sings on the tree, my sandals are poised for a take off.

Now, now,the old men are getting up to go, from the stage. Four of them ,lined diagonally across on the platform. Depth of field .Makes fine picture. Their silhouettes move away against a ripening sun.


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