Exhausted by the pressure
to keep up with the news
I chose instead to listen
to the birds and squirrels
cheating each other out of
hanging feed and stray seeds.
I drew no relief from that so instead
I went to the park and lay on the grass
as far from all other beings as I could
but still the clouds warred above me
and struck out the sun.
Back home I opened a novel
and the words danced and wrestled
so fiercely I could not follow them
where they were going.
I opened a blank book
to try and tame my own words.
There were only a few at first
which soon enough followed the others
into the tangled woods where I lost them.
There was a guitar on the wall.
There were my hands out on the ends of my arms.
There was something to do now
that I didn’t need to understand.
There I was, inside a badly played song
with all the room I needed there to breathe.