Lying on a park bench in the warm afternoon sun
Pondering a comment I've overheard
"You can't eat a buffalo, hun!"
Back to my thoughts then something occurred
A speck of black floats across my vision
A distant plane, a lost kite? No, a bird...
Drifting with abandon and indecision
Turns and quickly escapes my sight
Blinking out of existence with haughty derision
Timeless sun, comforting and bright
Accents the curls of smoke I exhale
Blends with wispy clouds above... not quite
Importance wanes, of work and email,
My desire for a nap must be undone!
And yet thoughts of the bird prevail...
'You'll NEVER know if you don't TRY...
-S. Skrib
"You were not put upon this earth to get it, Mr.Burton!" Lo Pan, 'Big Trouble in Little China'
