I should be outside...
Trees are thinking steady now
Of pushing leaves through
Woody fingertips.

I should be outside...
Geese are guarding eggs...
Golden yolks inside the round
Arrays of speckled grey.

I should be outside...
Foolish grasses wave tender flags
To call my snorting lawnmower
From its winter shed.
(El Toro is its name).

I should be outside...
But no...
I am crunching numbers,
Statistics' slave to keys
Whose metallic smells
Recite the probabilities
Existent in Fra Dante's hells...
Shall I abandon hope if I press "enter"?
Statistic hell is found at data's center.

I should be outside....
The sun is going down;
Night birds are trading calls...
The greebing screech of night hawks'
Wing-air brakes now haw and swoop
Their practicing 'til bugs arrive....

I should be outside...
Forget this chore.
I'm going out.
Tomorrow is another day.
I'm going out to play
OUTSIDE.