(Written on Thanksgiving Day, November 23, 2017)
I should get out more,
Walk the woods like William Wordsworth or Robert Frost or Mary Oliver,
Watch nature more closely,
Learn the names of trees and the songs of birds.
I should feel cold more, or hot.
It won’t kill me.
I should get sand in my shoes
and mosquito bites and poison ivy.
I should walk in the woods more.
I should stand next to water more,
a riverbank, a lakeside, a sea shore.
I should skip more stones
and make more ripples.
I should not be afraid of those who live there,
the frogs, the turtles, the fish.
I should dip my toe in and make friends of the natives.
I should buy a kayak
and change my lifestyle
so that it becomes the kind of lifestyle
conducive to kayaks.
I should pass no sunny hours in candlelit rooms with blinds closed
sitting at a desk writing poetry.
I should take full advantage of beautiful days,
follow roads that short of the decision to take them would remain not taken.
I should choose differently, trading this thing I love for that thing I love.
I should live differently.
I should get out more.