I wrote this one
On that night at Pickathon
Banjo and guitar stomping
Blue and purple and crowd
Echo the stomp
And this one I wrote
In the morning
Lying in a tent leaning to one side
Listening to the tick tock of flip flops
Pacing the trail
Probably on their way to the portapotty
After breakfast this one
Was written sitting by the barn
Watching the class unfurl
Yoga in the morning
Maybe I should have joined
But who would have fed the kids
It’s quiet on this bench
Besides the people chattering
And the traffic
And the generator humming
And the crunch of gravel
And I might have heard a bird
It’s hard to tell with all the noise
-T. Weeks
Life Immense 