Daybreak speckles a squatty pine –

along with tiny winged dancers
you only stir a bit

to stare and sip

as a black cat threads its way

through morning
shadows;

a train moans westbound
but you are silent.

Spring is spring yet never the same –

when light crackles
a hardened path

you are an infinite disappearing
above ragged rafters

and slanted beams

and granite clouds

and blue reaching into white into black

into everything.

Then, chipmunk chirps pierce the untethering
dripping like a high-pitched faucet:

Start.

Your.

Work.

Stop.

Staring.

Go.

Go.

Go.