Some days you need to waste, perfect temperature
and humidity in agreement with the blue sky

your mind has become, fireworks
till two in the morning long fizzled out

and your energy, kindred spirit, oblivionizing
its way through afternoon hours. Forget tight reins

on to-do lists. It’s good to turn the draft horse
out into pasture where he might or might not

nibble the grass. Sometimes it’s best to let
those motorcycle-gang thoughts that roll

into your mind like into an unsuspecting town
pass without judgment. Bored they can’t incite you

to pick up your marshall star and fight them
to within an inch of responsibility, they’ll spit

and hit the road. That’s a good way to play it,
sheriff. At least, some days.

Jan Carroll works in local and regional publishing. Her poetry chapbook, River, is available at The Local Store.

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