Not Untitled Any More

Sitting, sagging, lying,
on trampoline, unseen.
Hear birds, watch clouds.
Smell smoke, taste beer.
The inevitable, the prevented:
Stop it! Cheeky.

Half five, sunrise,
neighbours are chirping.
That afternoon feeling sets in.

After two days of blurry slurry haze,
filesmoke, cheery coffeeshop chatter,
worry, and fears abated.

The energy sink, the relief,
warrants some kind of release.
But no, not this.
I’m going back inside.