PROVE

I have nothing to prove to myself
A warm but insistent breeze is testing the new leaves.
Wispy white clouds are sailing across a wide sky.
The sun is tenderly stretching the skin of my face.
I shade my eyes as it rises above the silent house.
He tilts his laptop to better see the screen.
I types words quickly as I have always done,
tapping harder for emphasis.
As if it will underscore the letters.
Until my limited attention span is spent.
Yawning, I survey my mailbox for the last time.
I stand and stretch my denim clad legs.
I raise my arms above my head in a primal salute
to distantly approaching summer, catching the a scent of it on the dancing air.
I exhale slowly, letting my thoughts and emotions float away on my breath.
I snap the macbook shut.
I have nothing to prove to himself
I have nothing to prove to anyone.