A Warm Shower

I watched from a quiet park bench as the river did it's thing.
ripple rings here and there; particles catching light; the head of a
muskrat pops up with weeds on his head (he sees me and he
dives under water.)

The sun gently slips down around waters edge; pretty yellow and
orange reflections...
Drooping branches frame my lovely sunset and make me feel peaceful.
The water, almost like glass, reflects the sky.

I sit here thinking about how stunning it all is, wondering if I'll always be here
or if I'll meander away from here too.
I think about the music that I'm listening to and
how it seems like every song is the perfect
tune for that very moment.

I wonder all sorts of things.
Random stuff.
Like why that guy that's always fishing in the park
felt to compelled to spray paint "The Stabbin Cabin" on the
spare tire of his jacked up teal blue van?
Why?

Or how come Susie Crankshaw (a name fit for a character in a book)
can't ever come in my office and say anything nice,
only negative things? I'm planning to give her an assignment -
If she has to say something negative, then she has to accompany
that with something positive or I won't talk to her.
I think it would make her feel better in the long run.

Or why do I have to be chained to my cell phone?
If I didn't have one, then my demanding, high maintenance friend
couldn't call me to tell me that I'm self centered.
(Wow, I think I just talked myself into getting rid of my cell phone!)

At this moment, none of it really matters. I've tuned out even
the sound of the highway across the river for now.
My heart has relaxed and on this 60 degree June night,
I start to breathe in the sweet air all around me
and I realize that I don't really care who thinks what about me
and with a sigh of relief, I slowly walk home for a shower.