Another
thought of the next thing
I’ve
always been the one
That moved
in and out
Left the
town
Left it
all behind
Set up
shop
With the
wheels always turning
Everything
easy come
Then easy
go just the same
Quick to
adapt
Quick to jump
to the next thing
I love the
change of change
It may
just be a coping technique
That was
how it started
But now it
is me
Each day a
new adventure
What won’t
be the same
I
can’t wait to see
Maybe
today the power will go out
And I’ll
be sent home from work
Or I’ll
get a new project
Or a new
job entirely
Or I will
eat something new
Or
something old in a different way
Or I will
rearrange my icons
And write
with my left hand
And cross
my legs the other way
Today I will
write a poem in the bathroom
On my
electronic phone
Using only
my thumbs
As the fan
hums
A soothing
song of moving air
And I will
finally note
That the
fan sounds like distant waves
As heard
from a rustic cabin
Nestled on
the high cliff above
While
resting on a hammock
In the
waning sun of late spring
Isn’t that
just the way
You crave
something new
And you
find it
Sitting in
the second floor restroom
Or maybe
leaning over the drinking fountain
As the
water flows over the stainless steel
And in
this light
With my
head tilted just so
It looks
like mercury
Pooling
and swirling in a mercurial way
All of
this seems flimsy and unstable
Not the
case
I’m steady
but flexible
Like a
deep rooted tree
Bending
but won’t break
I will
stay around
Watch the
seasons change
Watch
people change
Watch my
colors change
Will this
year my yellows turn orange then red
Or will
they go green to brown
With
dots of auburn burned in
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