DAY OFF
I meant to get things done - I really did-
But then that thrush would pick today to pour
His water-notes upon the air, and bid
Me follow him to where the summer's core
lay everywhere about. We found nine-bark,
A yellow-breasted chat, and Queen Anne's lace;
Bob White, a wildly singing meadowlark,
A field of wheat with ever-changing face,
Sun through an oak; and, in the roadside dust,
A butterfly I'd never seen before.
Till back at last it ended, as days must,
And, pausing with my hand upon the door,
I add it up. Here is the sum precisely:
I lived today; the work has kept quite nicely.
by Ray Romine