Slowly like ice
as it freezes
and then thaws
there’s a rhythm 
even though unseen 
a bed made
is a bed
to be unmade 
a cycle to 
be gaily ridden 
filled with adventures 
and the steady 
and silent syncopation 
of quiet normal 
ebb and flow 
stay or go 
here and fro 

It slides
down side
face glass 
or window 
starting strong 
ending weak
stopping there
to pool
with others 
unable to 
go farther 
so group 
they do
losing whatever 
it was 
that they 
were before 

Some blossomed early 
others caught up 
and some were
late season bloomers
so goes the 
vast prairie life
filled with wildflowers 
planted by God
meant to tickle 
every single eye 
willing to see 
each of us 
has its heyday 

Pillow me this 
what’s with fringe 
detail or deterrent 
like what gives 
with the ropes
of frill that 
tickles my nose 
when I’m napping 
hand me scissors 
and I’ll trim
those errant nails 
and snooze languidly 
into my slumber 

It’s these
that come
quiet days 
just looking 
seems ordinary 
a pulse 
of peace
a palpitation 
of happiness 
all rolled 
up into 
a whole 
lotta nothing 
oh how 
this is