Next to the fire
Gazing at the snow
Cave’s Rings of Saturn in my ear
Russell’s In Praise of Idleness on my mind.
(contents forgotten but refrain and title endures)
A swirling, unstable mental state hovering over the omnipresent, guilt-inducing
List of Things-to-Do
(luckily, none urgent or mood appropriate).
Three cups of coffee, belly full, and a contrarian urge to bask in that Idleness.
My leisure marred by the petulant tug of responsibility.
Or is it?
How else to appreciate the contemplation of this moment?
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