Think Monk

When I’m home I get to experience
all of the sensations
that fled my fingertips
while I was away at work
they are simple, but their majesty and comfort
is revealed
when I am deprived of them.

The feel of bark on my back
the sound of the wind in the trees
grass between my toes
the Zen hum of traffic
the sound of high heels on pavement
needle hitting vinyl
the smell of good coffee
a smile from someone passing on the street
the meow of a stray cats as he prowls for dinner
the sound of the ocean
the feeling of free sunshine on my face
pop music oozing out of the doorways of bubble tea restaurants
my own sheets
the sound of pages being turned in bus stops
the warm hug of a nap that won’t be interrupted
the gunshot staccato sounds of this typewriter
love notes on my walls
beer cans popping open at my neighbors place…

All of this piles into my head
and I drown in it
and I am content
as these waters of thought and feeling
wash away Northern Alberta dust.

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