97poems/pinching

Pinching leaves
from the fern,
while I wait
for the kettle
to boil.
Fridays are usually good,
I’ve picked up steam.
Working so hard that
I can scarcely stop
for any biological
need.

Today I have walked
down a path,
which is not my
usual. Picking
spring’s first wild
things, I feel entitled,
despite some of my
own principles
in this regard.
I live here
& so I know
what is plentiful
to the point
of threatening.
And besides –
I’m one of them.

3/12/99