A Day For Relaxing
there is an internal laziness about the tree
That inspires my pen to dance along the side of my page
My muse attempts to make a grab for it
Let it be I caution her
She can be so controlling sometimes
the leaves are tittering from silver to green
squirrels are running round her trunk
Their fluff tails delighting my writer’s heart
What about? The muse asks me.
I shake my head
This is a day for relaxing, for appreciating, for being
Not a day for forcing words or punctuation.
Bird speak is in the air. Cardinals and robins, wrens too.
I sit back and relax, feeling the sun on my face.
Unconcerned about skin cancer or commas.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
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