March 26

-for the Writer’s Almanac

If I am late for work– by late, I mean if
I am on time, by work I mean that which I
was born to do– I pass between stoplights just as

his deep midwestern drone streams down this
long green river-wound  road. I belong
at my desk. Instead I careen that
way and this, redeemed for a day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s