in Panera

Yes, its come to this.  I travel 45 minutes to make it into town, just to sit among people and feel productive.  I liked it when the Mudd House was only a seven minute walk away in Springfield.  Still nothing new.  I think my attitude last night was in no small way affected by my just finishing an application at Walmart, and conceding to the fact that I just went to college the last five years to end up at my home town Walmart.  Its all come full circle.

Anyway, here's another poem for having to listen to my bitchin'.  Its not as bad as I used to feel about it, and its also not as depressing as my typical poems.

Today’s a misty morning and afternoon

That rolled from the valley cracks

To coat the fields with glassy dew

And hang there in their crystal sacks.

The pale skeleton of the sycamores

With the age of each suns crest

Flake the last of their gnarled shell

And bare their wintery breast.

The late autumn colors have begun to fade.

As a man’s beard turns faintly grey

The cedars aflame with burnt sienna

The pines a deep green and promise to stay.