StillMe

Even the birds

Observe the weekend

Few are singing

Less are flying

It’s quiet here

Except for marsh

Frogs, cicadas and

Crickets car tires

Kick up gravel

Resonating like firecrackers

Or like the

Tearing of rolls

Of paper towels

A human voice

In the distance

Reminds me that

I’m still me

Quietly right here