despite feeling puffy lately,
you've lost five pounds
                   —or gained five
but shrug it off
as an acceptable price
for good cake, wine,
and camaraderie;
 
all eighteen commute lights
glow green
                 —or red,
but the pauses
slow your pulse,
opening spaces to meditate,
hear a forgotten oldie,
witness a girl
skip past four lanes
of growling auto grills
as if the crosswalk
were the drawbridge
to a fairy castle;
     
you make a sparkling
water-cooler witticism
                 —or wait too long to speak
until it wouldn't be funny anymore,
so your usually silent colleague
fills the gap, and you honor
his time to shine.
 
And if such moments, such days,
are gifts within a Grand Scheme,
a benevolent plan,
then, Yay!,
                —or, if just the latest waves
in an ever-expanding
cause-effect tsunami,
well, then that will have to do.


© by Rob Baker.
Used with the author's permission.