I know it’s good advice
to look outside, to walk –
to minimize the price
of time spent on a rock –

I know deep in my gut
that fate depends on chance,
and time spent on my ****
drifts in an endless dance.

A song glides in the air.
A song drifts in my mind –
The one outside is spare.
It cannot be defined

by notes placed on a page.
It cannot be rewound –
It only sets the stage
for music to be found.