No More

I’m listening to music

looking out the window

It’s beautiful out there,

green, flowers, clouds.

No more in here…

no more putting my nose

to the rutstone

going nowhere fast.

Now, I go everywhere slow,

or, not at all. It may happen,

but, no longer is it up to me.

It’s up to serendipity.

Imagine an old yogi, sitting

on the bank of a river in India,

eating fish guts. That’s not me.

But, it might as well could be.