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Working When Mozart

As rain renewed its luster upon the pavement
the afternoon eddied its elder passions

in an eventless release.  How benign this movement
then appeared.  Characters scrolled down the monitor

in green, numeric cascades—as research answers
for aggression, a defense for planned enterprise

when the rain ends:  when Mozart began
an old melody I saw through the window a hill

rising up, cloaked with brush and weed
trees and lumber pines of primeval majesty.

I longed to cross that blacktop to the deer trail
and follow it to the top—but I did not.

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