I have lost my ability to meander.

Somewhere among orderly schedules

and plans for events 

so far in the future

that they can never occur,

this extinction of disattention

crept into my life

and defined all the spaces of the world

as bastions of should 

and cells of should not. 

I’m not the only one suffering this loss.

Now we have charged verbs

like loiter and wander,

and only streams can meander,

as long as they do not become rivers

or think they are better than creeks.

The whorls of the whirlwinds of fancy

we once encountered only by accident

were shoved down exhausted alleyways

with the rest of our humanity.

I want to meander again and not taste the bitterness of guilt.

My speech, mind, and words often maunder 

as I sink deeper into my own settled ways

in favor of the enchantment of efficiency. 

We once had charming pastimes 

like meandering across our afternoons

to escape the claustrophobia

of the lives we assembled for ourselves.

I invite you to meander when you most don’t want to do so,

and I hope to see you enjoy the ability to digress.