Photograph of bluebells by LeAnn Spencer
Commute
I don’t do boredom
and there is an abundance
of routes between work
and home. Perhaps
I should pick a new one
every evening,
the last of my daily
executive decisions—
when to go for coffee
(twice)
whether to delete
or archive my email,
how to laugh off
my boss’s drollery
of the day. But
I’m tired after work,
zone out on the drive home
until waiting at the light,
Northmoor at Knoxville,
an oak tree twice
as tall as the light standard
fronting it transfixes me,
this tree,
this silhouette listing
south against blue
in summer
and black in winter
and once a year a harvest moon.
The tree gives nothing,
leaving me nothing to decide.
Copyright © 2008 Jannett Highfill. All rights reserved.