Day off – hour 10

Moonbeams dance across the pond

rippling coffee, nearing dawn


a hush arose within the din

of crickets, birds and mice and then


a silent fog enshrouds our land

around folks driving, uttering “Damn!”


the concrete highways, quiet streets

enclosed by firs and cedars neat


along a dock no whisper heard

I sip my canteen undeterred


and pray the haze keep me from work

to rest in nature’s soupy murk


from a shelf, a book I snuck

and disappeared in dreams and rucks.


-Sandra Johnson, 6/22/19

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