Delicately hanging

   I slowed down for a moment from my brisk walk when I saw this small flower bud hanging from a tree. I continued walking, but returned back to examine it further. As I think and write about it now, I feel proud that I look close enough at my physical surroundings, at least some of the time, to be able to see something so small and delicate in a world filled with so much velocity.
   The creamy yellow object hung there, barely swinging from what I imagine was a spider web. It was there in a way that seemed like it might not actually be there. Perhaps there was a spot on my cornea making me see things that didn't exist.
   I find the idea of not really knowing what I am seeing beautifull and freeing. In concept, not knowing how to think about things is equally alluring, though more frightening.

Is it really there?

Broken key

   I first saw this object from perhaps twenty feet away, spotting it because it was the only thing glistening in the area. Although it was still somewhat overcast in the morning, the sun seemed much brighter that morning due to the dark, stormy weather we'd been having here in San Francisco in the preceding days.              
   While it was the shine that first attracted me, as I got closer I noticed that the broken key looked as if it was embedded in the surface where it laid, as the recent rainfall surrounding it seemed to envelop it from all sides. The entire shape looked like it had been placed in a half-cooled container of gelatin, and reminded me of when I was a child, and would place slices of banana into Jello that was setting.
   I wondered whether this breaking of the key had been intentional, and if not, did it inconvenience the possessor of it terribly at the time of the accident?  I also imagined that the former owner couldn't possibly have any idea how beautiful its' placement had become for me, nor of the allusions and memories it had helped to foster.