Do you go where the pavement leads, facing sternly forward, the periphery merely, well, peripheral? Or is your
Head on a swivel, a series of exclamations perching just atop your tongue? Look there! Did you see that? Oh! That cardinal!
Those colors! The gypsy in me sees the forest, the hidden pathways, the possibilities in every turn and untaken road.
Murmurations of starlings, point no way and all ways, unlike the Canada geese who arrow forth, eyes forward, honking
Relentlessly. Following the curves I discover a stand of firs, surprise a doe and her fawns, utter a cry of delight.
For today this poem was wishful thinking. I am traveling, but I have no time to dally on my way to the airport in Panama City Beach. My flight leaves at 9:45 a.m. and should arrive in Austin, Texas, at 3:15.