A Report

I enjoy a long walk on a crisp morning now
I'm sure glad we waited for commonplace mystery.
There's a blackbird on my neighbor's trellis—
one on the sill, the stanchion, in the birdbath.
And there is not a thought in my head
I could get arrested today for having.
One begins to enjoy time. It's been kind of rude
to oppose this. The lights are more peculiar,
but not every dancer is dizzy. One begins
to eat, sleep, suffer less, to hate less
a god for whom he suffered in silence.
There is little else today to report to you.
I busy myself with life, then I rest.
Even an old friend's obituary made me speculate
but hardly worry Ten precent of men kill themselves.
Guns, gas, we leap. There is little way around this.

Tweet
Copyright © 2011 Steve Langan All rights reserved
from Copper Nickel
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission