destination

 

Some days we want sunlight, clover,

A morning field surrounded by unmoving trees as they sip from roots 

We don't think of sunburn or become preoccupied with world clutter 

Clouds morph into play dough wisps

Meaningless then gone behind the school as it fills,

Moribund anchors persist 

I found a death-still fledgling 

Once a crow in its parts still feathered

Inside a ring of trees 

It must have failed flight broken below 

I lift it by the talons 

What to do with it it doesn't deserve ignominy

Watching clouds in spring is better 

I have no effect on anything

Other than my stance in the field 

Lifting the cold coffee to mouth 

Feeling sun warmth on my head 

Alleviating pain that roosts in my branches, kicked out 

I don't care about the dog routine as the carefree wish to play fetch 

Be disturbed I have some to spare

Even though empty I set the coffee bottle upright 

The lawn too perfect for disorder 

Dew departing by the millisecond it's a tight schedule nature weaves

Going up, coming down 

To succinctly surmise 

Clouds wanted elsewhere follow winds of their making 

Whistle at your dog,  

Adjust your sunglasses and aerobic outfit of perpetual retirement

Let others work suffer die and produce 

Just allow a wide berth this morning 

This animal needs it