Thinking

by Danusha Lameris

Don’t you wish they would stop, all the thoughts

swirling around in your head, bees in a hive, dancers

tapping their way across the stage? I should rake the leaves

in the carport, buy Christmas lights. Was there really life on Mars?

What will I cook for dinner? I walk up the driveway,

put out the garbage bins. I should stop using plastic bags,

visit my friend whose husband just left her for the Swedish nanny.

I wish I hadn’t said Patrick’s painting looked “ominous.”

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t called. Does the car need oil, again?

There’s a hole in the ozone the size of Texas, and everything

seems to be speeding up. Come, let’s stand by the window

and look out at the light on the field. Let’s watch how the clouds

cover the sun, and almost nothing stirs in the grass.

From Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems Grayson Books, 2017.