Branches: Road Waiting Plague

A branch in the breeze

I can’t pass my time

Spitting on cats

Or counting peas

Still too much to be done

That can’t be stopped

By some disease

A branch in a storm

Sometimes the waiting

Is a whirlwind

Of sound and chaos

Thinking out loud

Licking and biting

Obeying or ignoring the boss

A branch on the night

The evening-star drooping

Its sparkling the only action

Quiet and calm is found

After all the coming and going

The fretting and struggle

A rest from the round and round