But next time, for sure

The Sun settles lower,
changing the shadows,
playing with the light
between the slats of the fence,
catching the robin,
partly in shadows,
part way in golden light,
making me wish
for a camera.
But Time
sends the robin away.
And the day
soon follows.

Show them what’s behind Door #1

A small package of rebellion
shows up on the steps
as the brilliant Sun and
morning dew
open the shopping center
of ideas
which lead away from door #1 --
another day at the grind.
Aluminum desks,
topped with windows,
programmed to show
only prescribed content,
fit for a late spring day
of heretical thoughts,
as eyes travel
and thoughts meander
like water from spring storms,
cutting new paths
in dry dirt.
Pyramid shaped tracks
as resistance
channels
the stream
and finds
me late
but not sorry.