Population: One

I want to wake up
on any given Sunday morning
and have the choice of sitting back
on the couch with my eyes perched outward,
or to listen to the wind through the tree branches
and the bird's chirp inside my earlobe.
I want to be where I am
population: one,
man of the town,
the nomad spirit of words,
on tomorrow's unexplored path.
I have tired and waken up
many times before,
and walked over my life
to catch up one day at a time.
At times my hand shakes
not from nerves or shame,
the same way earth does
in the presence of life.

DW100705