Today I’m not answering-
Calls and emails can tumble into the void—
a distant echo in a canyon
I have no intention of hiking into.
Instead, I’ll linger here,
thinking about adventures ahead.
The woods wait for no one,
especially someone like me,
busy explaining my ideas to people
who will forget my words
the moment the meeting ends.
The trees don’t need a progress report.
The squirrels don’t pause mid-scurry,
fold their tiny arms,
and demand to know when I’ll deliver
on whatever request they’ve made.
It’s funny how the trail doesn’t care
if you’ve been gone five days or fifty years.
It’s still there,
under the canopy of leaves
that needs no approval to fall.
So I think today I’ll
spend the afternoon explaining myself
only to the wind—
which, for all its impatience,
never fails to listen.
I don’t like it, but it’s what I have for today.
You’ve been killing it with the titles of your poems. They’re simple and open ended.