rough day
just wanted to sit outside
drinking coffee and blinking slowly

outside, two separate parties
within 50 meters of my back door
loud, boisterous

you’d think the collective unconscious
of all the hangovers in this ‘hood
would somehow have the power
to ward off such noise
on a Sunday afternoon

alas, not

so I take my coffee cup
and my fuzzy socks
and head off in search of
silent sanctuary
unconcerned by the half glances
of the people I pass by

I find a field
devoid of footballs, frisbees,
little league games

wide open and still

I sit under the dappling shade
of towering poplars
spring-bud sap still in the grass
air balmy with its scent

I fall in love
with the bright green bug
wandering my finger tips

until it leaps up
gone in the breeze