artists date at the arboretum 02/22/2022

a sensory buffet
of sarcococca scent 
and cedar breeze.

momentarily, 
that old self returned
the one who channels poems
stops to pet fuzzy buds
strokes soft moss carpets
dazzled by dewy droplets,
whose sole purpose
is to watch the ducks dive.

it's why we're alive.
not to dredge up the energy
for a desk-bound drudgery
just to eke out a living.
it felt like last supper.
if I'm lucky, they'll hire me.

but what a crime, when daily
in the tree museum,
upon the still and storied pond,
the mallard dives again, 
and the ripples
stretch outward, 
toward oblivion.