It’s time to admit I’m irresponsible.
I lack ambition. I get nothing done.
I spend the morning walking up the fire road.
I know every tree along the ridge.
Reaching the end, I turn around. There’s no point
to my pilgrimage except the coming and the going.
Then I sit and listen to the woodpecker
tapping away. He works too hard.
Tonight I will go out to watch the moon rise.
If only I could move that slowly.
I have no plans. No one visits me.
No need to change my clothes.
What a blessing just to sit still —
a luxury only the lazy can afford.
Let the dusk settle on my desk.
No one needs to hear from me today.
by Dana Gioia, 99 Poems: New & Selected