My friend once sighed
That he watches planes fly by
And wonders where they’re going.

The world’s tempo beats on.
I, too, prefer to stop along
The way and watch a small thing.

I congratulate the weed
That grew from a wayside seed
And survives in the sidewalk’s crack.

I notice when raindrops descend
That the roads shine iridescent
Then dry again to a flat black.

I observe a bird’s funny walk –
Watching its head bob and cock –
Such a comedian!

I sit aside the freeway by the river
To watch busy cars drive there –
So calm I am.