Looking forward to a calmer
time,
when I can reflect on what happened,
maybe edit my rhymes;
but all I did today was kick a
lime-
green husk-ball from a black walnut
tree down the street, to calm my mind;
and then I felt hot purple pain
from a honey-bee trapped
under my rhythmin’-rhymin’
third left toe—I had to bow
down
and scrape the stinger out with my fingernail,
dreaming of a calmer time
when I could walk my remaining
mile
without severe pain. Well, it wasn’t
as bad as my rhymes;
in a block or two, I could walk
just fine;
and my foot didn’t puff up and turn purple as a grape.
Looking forward to a calmer time,
beyond my rhymes.
