the ash trees along the parkway
stand like sentinels
stark and leafless,
their veins and capillaries etched
against a gray but placid sky
the lawns are green and
wet with the memory
of recent rain
on days like this
nature seems closer at hand
its presence enveloping
it seems to swirl around my ankles
oh, it’s good to be alive
to breath this air
to walk and to run
to sing my song
off the clock
free of aspiration
free of regret
free of the acerbic
bite of irony
in this brief moment
this brief insignificant
moment that
signifies
02/16/19