staying home

at the park, in my usual spot,
this grey, moist Sunday morning,
and my thoughts wander
here and there and just
a little yonder, since
it's so foggy out there
that the horizon has little
definition, just dark grey sea
met by light grey sky,
as the sailors who will be
alive and dry tomorrow
stay home with their coffee
and crossword puzzles;

we seek clarity and
precision
most of the time
in a world often given
to neither,
and there are some mornings
when we would be better off
staying home.



May 17, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.