Went on retreat with the church staff this week, stayed at a cottage on the water. This thing came out while piddling around with my computer yesterday afternoon...?

the voices inside my head:
a poem,
an essay,
a pithy reflection,
but likely not,
clamoring to emerge
tripping clumsily over one another--
there are no right angles in nature
so what am I doing here
bolt upright
laptop perched,
a machine amidst wildness,
fingers poised
for what?
too many things,
"decent and in order"! I demand
but no.
if we had world enough and time
your coyness (language) were no crime,
but I have this time
and this view
and only this time
and this view,
so come out already,
empty onto the silver screen,
a Pandora's box in reverse.