sweet excess
there is peace
in the time between.
from one engagement
to the next there are seconds
to reflect
on the trees
and the breeze
and the thoughts running
a race in your head.
there is time to breathe
and wait
and write.
it’s never a murder of time--
I dislike the phrase “to kill time”--
but rather an embrace of it’s excess.
like hugging
the extra pint of
ice cream
on your father.