Post

My box is stirring

but I am not.

The valley is stirring, and over the hill

but I want quiet.

I told this to a friend, and she went on to ask

'Why do you like the trees if all this stirring gets you down?'

I replied that the trees didn't want anything.

'What about that giant flag you point at, and remind me of every time we go to Santa-Monica?'

I replied maybe its stirring that I like. Both these things stirred around.

'As long as you don't have to take part in it, you like it.'

Secretly, I just didn't know how to stir like those things.

And didn't want to learn.

I would fumble and fail.

I would wiggle where I was expected to shake,

and stretch when the contract was to contract.

I'll let the trees and my flag do the stirring.

I'll be a post.