Walking in the warming Sun,
Having left the keyboard and
Cubicles, those open-air asylums,
For a bit; have my Transitions
Lenses, and feet on tracks to
Keep moving while my head spins.
Perfect view of a duck in rest,
Bill in breast and I’m jealous;
I keep trekking, hoping these
Steps taken before yield to me
Their nuances of life given to
Plain sight’s camouflaged peers.