nine-to-five is a fading memory;
poets, philosophers, and artists
are all leaving their jobs
and re-entering the real world.
as one man begins his journey home,
he briefly turns his gaze heavenward.
evening clouds adorn the sky with
streaks of purple-grey, pink,
orange, yellow, and white.
an opalescent silhouette
of an elegant crane floats
majestically across the sunset sky;
another cloud, assuming the form
of a small but aggressive hawk,
follows close behind in pursuit.
an airplane, dark and distant,
is dwarfed by the bird-like clouds
as it passes over them both,
but does not escape their notice.
the three figures continue
along their chosen courses,
as i continue along mine,
from occupation to preoccupation;
light of heart, this poet goes home.
© 1999 by Metta Jon Maslow