Thinking about things while going to work.
It’s just a short walk
through piney wood out back and to work
and yet some days the dew
hangs heavy and drips
through the rising sun’s light
like a crazy kaleidoscope of greening glory.
Sometimes there are clusters
of gathering snow packing all the cold
fury of the night, blessing me
with divine druidic thoughts that send me onward
like a youngling bull readying for the first rut.
But most often is the quiet
with great calm, not even a rustle of whisper
to guide my thoughts, and it is then
that I know there is shorter path
like the cacophonous calamity of insanity.