Eighty-Four

sitting still & breathing cold morning air
is enough.

take away the
cars, computers, cellphones, cameras,
chocolate cravings-
fill my lungs with this morning oxygen, instead, please.


Quiet is not quite as difficult as
Loud makes her seem;
no,

the birds are chattering in so many different tongues- i rarely listen,
or try, to understand,

but when i heard a faint, long, echoing call
from somewhere beyond these tall oak trees,
and the short, impatient chirps of a nearby one,
i was surprised and delighted

that the wind began to whistle, beautifully,
and i could feel its invisible breath and ageless song
gently rippling
somewhere outside of me