On Days Like This
On days like this I want to play; I want to have some fun.
Instead I'm stuck here at this desk, three doorways from the sun.
Gray walls become a fortress tall, ensuring no distraction.
A thousand cubicles so small that I've become a fraction.
There's life beyond the corporate wall, beyond this cold concrete,
and people breathing freer air, and soaking up the heat.
A mountain stream, alive with trout - the snow line still receding.
An eagle calling to it's mate - these things I have been needing.
An empty highway, sundown bound...and moving.
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