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Just Thinking

 Got up on a cool morning.
Leaned out a window.
No cloud, no wind.
Air that flowers held for awhile.
Some dove somewhere.
Been on probation most of my life.
And the rest of my life been condemned.
So these moments count for a lot--peace, you know.
Let the bucket of memory down into the well, bring it up.
Cool, cool minutes.
No one stirring, no plans.
Just being there.
This is what the whole thing is about.

Poem by William Stafford
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Book: Shattered Sighs