​Today, I chose to do nothing.
But it did not turn out that way.
I made some coffee.
And read poems by Sylvia Plath.
Not even disturbing her bones.
I bought a camera
to take pictures of the stars.
And my choices of direction.
Outside, the cicadas –
with ear noise and eye noise.
Mumbled a few words of wisdom.
As good as it gets, I thought.