Sitting Outside on a Pretty Afternoon, Thinking the Sort of Things One Thinks About on a Pretty Afternoon While Sitting Outside

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a poem of this sort

would surely be a list,

everyone's list being unique.

mine is fairly mundane,

no need to elaborate.

the sun is warm 

on my face, though the air is cool.

this is mundane,

and it is part of my list, 

but the backstory may be important.

the wind is causing

the tree limbs to sway quite a lot,

and the two combine

to make a wonderful sound.

i do love the spring wind.

the colors i see

are primarily blue, white,

browns, and green. 

i don't see red at all, 

not even a little, nor yellow.

the sun is much

nearer to white than yellow,

and the daffodils are

butter and egg, more ivory

than white, and very pretty.

i do see violet 

in the flowering ajuga.

i'm wearing blue and blue,

jeans a white t-shirt

under a blue sweater.

i see myself, from mid-tummy

to sunglassed eyes,

reflected in the monitor screen.

my skin looks very dark

against the white collar of my t-shirt.

my expression is me-centric,

i'm not smiling for anyone,

i'm pretty relaxed,

but i do have things on my mind.

i see more of a frown than smile.

i never sat by a pond

in my life, except the one

at golden gate park.

i watched a man catch eels there,

and i've never known han shan.

it certainly felt real, though, 

as i imagined the scene,

and wrote the words.

i'd be hard pressed to confess

under duress that it didn't happen.

i think dreams are 

an alternate reality, and count

just as much as real life,

but i can differentiate the two.

daydreams are different.

i prefer them, having

some control over them,

though i would make

a poor director, unable 

to hold thoughts for long.

i always think of

the people i love, consciously

or not, and they never

stray far from my conscious thought.

but i never dream of them.

i think about my past

seldomly. i certainly have

fond memories,

but far more sad ones.

or, that's i how i remember it.

so i don't.

if i can help it.

which i can.

to some extent.

i remember fondly

lying on the cement

by a swimming pool 

on a hot summer day.

i was lying on my stomach

after swimming.

my head was resting

on my arms, and my 

fingertips felt as if 

they were sinking into the cement.

though i knew they weren't.

the sun felt good.

i'm fairly sure 

my mother was there,

but i remember nothing specifically, 

except the sensations of sun and cement.

i may have been content,

it seems i was.

i probably was chilly 

after swimming, and before

the sun warmed me up.

i chill easily. maybe

that's why i love being held

so much. maybe 

it's a kid thing, a longing

for mommy. ha ha.

i do hear birds. ah, 

i see yellow daffodils

in the distance. i hadn't 

noticed them until just now.

la ti da.

some people look 

at clouds and see shapes,

or are reminded

of something. i never do,

though i love clouds.

i see clouds. 

i see potential, which 

sounds rather existential,

or something. 

i'm a dreamer.

i'm debating

whether to put my phone

on silent, or let it be.

i'd hate to be interrupted now

by something trivial.

but, what if

someone were to call,

and it was life-changing,

for the better.

it could happen.

one of the birds

is calling: sweet sweet sweet.

i love this day, or

this part of it. 

it's kind of perfect.

i'm thinking about one

in particular.

the rest are distant,

and unnamed.

it sets me edge, in a way i like.

i sense potential

for, if not actual realization,

meaningful 

psychic realizations, which

would be, in my world, real.

i see a cat.

it's late afternoon, 

and when the sun goes 

behind a cloud, or, 

when the cloud passes in front 

of the sun, it's chilly.

when the cloud passes, the warmth

is almost too wonderful.

almost.

now i see i'm smiling.

i have my thoughts,

my sun, my colors, my sounds.

i feel content, mostly.

i wonder is han shan

was this self-aware.

doses of solitude

help me, but i would

not willing seek a life

of solitude.

life without touch, arghh.

lips, breasts, hips, thighs,

fingers roaming,

seeking, exploring, finding!

thank you very much,

i'll pass on solitude.

which reminds me,

i want to get Terri

a little something by way 

of thanks. 

she deserves it.

big cloud, am cold.

no red. cat sharpening its claws

on a tree limb.

birds, wind. definitely cold.

gotta go.

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