Catching myself dreaming I can
At least credit those fanciful
Scenes for the leaden moods
Of my mornings - but absent
Recollections, the heavy world
Is like scraps of paper
Jessica leaves strewn
On my study floor. I grope
About for whatever's
There, raise my head and
With faulty ears listen
For something in the trees
Outside - birds perhaps
Or just the wind ending
This unsuccessful introspection.
I lift some weights, dash
About the house doing
Chores, see outside that
The heavy clouds have yet to
Lift. Without meaning to
I feel better in an hour or two.