Something stirs today.
Not like the cars I hear,
rambling in the distance,
rushing to and fro.
Not like the tires
on the gravel lane next door,
or the buzzing of the weed-eater
on the next block.
Not even like the creaking
of the aluminum siding on this house,
as the sun raises its
over-night temperature.
No. Something stirs within.
I like to think of myself as
possessing alacrity, as energy ready
as the doves that chase
the marauding blackbirds from their field.
But I respond to the day
only after my inner soup has simmered.
I will serve no me
before it's time.
Not like the cars I hear,
rambling in the distance,
rushing to and fro.
Not like the tires
on the gravel lane next door,
or the buzzing of the weed-eater
on the next block.
Not even like the creaking
of the aluminum siding on this house,
as the sun raises its
over-night temperature.
No. Something stirs within.
I like to think of myself as
possessing alacrity, as energy ready
as the doves that chase
the marauding blackbirds from their field.
But I respond to the day
only after my inner soup has simmered.
I will serve no me
before it's time.