Before a Late Start at Work
I sat under a tree somewhere in Nebraska
after a late-night drive in a storm to here
my assignment. Nestled in the sandhills
the morning whispered. In silence I stayed
by a lake where a drive ended. The sun
reflected off a pond, my reflections
to begin the day. Trees and grasses sprouted
from sand fed by underground streams.
A soft breeze whispered, too. I closed
my eyes. Serenity. Pioneers had given their lives
to discover this land. It was mine for now.
I discovered the land for myself. A white cabin
near me was quiet, whether abandoned or not
it didn’t matter. I embraced the silence. Lost
in time. I felt in my mind a new poem form
the words I longed to share when I’d get
back home. Lines broke and found new lines.
Stanzas white spaces moments of silence
always said more than I could say as I gazed
at clouds drifting through open skies. A poem
or two I could take home with me on the long drive.
I had to admit I never knew what I would find.
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