where

I’ve lingered long in the bathroom Reading poetry. Amazed there’s no bleeding. Amazed at just how empty I’ve become.

There’s noise out on the sidewalk Where the sidewalk is  Not a scene, But simply seen.

Where it’s likely A hummingbird shows up – Like always –  To flit and zip before My bulging eyes. Eyes desperate for All of it. Where greedy’s not such a bad thing.

Or maybe a crow, That shimmering in the day,  winged-flapping avian sideshow.

Details. Details.

The long view in the park stretches  Past Point Loma, Past St. Louis,  Past all those little league days Of a childhood.  To circle the globe Is to appreciate breakfast, Maybe hope for supper. When all the while there’s something Flying someplace.

It’s not the destination, Kid, It’s the flying. Haven’t I figured that out By now?