Poem: August 24, 2021

Last Wednesday

I managed to arrive at school early

with the sun still peeking over

the trees and ball field and stadium,

and because of the mist drifting

just above the ground,

and because of the huge presence

of the moon that had yet to find

its way below the horizon,

and because I was tired,

everything seemed to be a dream

that I could peel away, 

a stray, half-waking moment, 

a way back into a dream state.

I lost myself among a flock of geese,

gathered in the grass at the edge

of the chain link fences, 

so many exclamation points,

strange and sociable, picking at worms.