Today I can’t get around so well.
I must take my pills and walk.
It’s gray and rainy and cold and damp.
I ache and fret and mutter and groan.
Daily pleasures stare at me.
I am blind to them, the ones
that Yogi Berra knew about,
see-able by “just looking.”
So look, stay close to home.
Cracks in sidewalks, not Grand Canyon,
moss on trees, not Old Growth.
wonder at my own hands,
my own breathing, my ability
to tangle and untangle words.
Peter Burke is a retired HP and OSU engineer and a Corvallis resident since 1983. Long-time technical writer, he is new to poetry.