The Mind of a Poet with a Corporate Job

The sparrows perched at each corner of the walk to work

were more beautiful than this e-mail for the regional managers.

Although it’s true, they were less urgent, didn’t have anywhere

they had to be.  Maybe that’s what they sang about.

It’s like this moment late in the day when sunlight

slices through the office windows.  It reminds me

what I meant by insight in the language of particulars,

so now I can make that photocopy of your report.

Besides, the light and what it brought, already slips away.

I’ll soon forget to write it down and with it, I’ll forget too

how elegant the trees were bowed to the ancient wind

and what their aching branches suggested.

Something flies off just then, and somewhere

I have a long note like a memo

addressed to the spirit that hungers in us all.

I think it got stuck to an invoice mailed to a client

who should be sending payment within the month.