I took a walk instead 
and while my feet moved
me through the morning
I made a list in my head: 
quarreling crows, eastern
kingbird, bright flash 
of indigo bunting, unknown
bird with yellow breast
and sweet song.  
Three rabbits playing
by the lake. The cool
breeze that moves mist
across water. Cows munching
on tall grass beside the cemetery.
Dancing brown calf 
with white face.

I’m not not writing a poem.
I’m taking inventory
doing research, as I did
in college but instead of facts 
and quotes on 3×5 cards 
I am storing images, sounds
sensations. I don’t have
a place, a plan, a form  
for them yet.
But I will.

I hope.

*Inspired by Grace Paley’s poem “The Poet’s Occasional Alternative”