The Logic of the Winter Sun

Today,
I don't need to learn any lessons
Or take time out
Or devote it--as appropriate
Today,
The pen, the paper, the thoughts
Find me of their own accord
Instead of the other way around
Today,
The winter sun
Stretches my spine with golden
Warm, persuasive hands
Folds my arms under my head
And kneads out my logic.


It feel it struggle--my logic
Tiny, fleshy knots
Just under my skin
But the sun--the winter sun
Presses all the knots
Into a gentle,
Thoughtless, release.