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  The Secret Life

As I leaned into the bathroom mirror, a rooster
crowed—unenhanced anthem of life and little things.

I ate some cereal and packed a lunch.  I greeted
our neighbor's Dobie in the drive, then headed

for the freeway and drove to where the mountains
rose in happy vistas.  Stepping through the clear

membrane and into the secret life, I continued on
my way to work:  an ordinary April morning

as the sun shone down in unenhanced anthems
and little spaces.  I sat quietly in the secret life

in which an oak tree played an afternoon part
and was, perhaps, its most beautiful player.

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