A Morning Drive

A misted and twisted day greets me
And my green Taurus leaving the apartment
And I, at home in the colorlessness
Am thankful for a drive so similar
To the morning mind

And out of the blandness, like a dream
Appear two ducks sitting in a puddle
Far from pond, or park, or stream
And I in my morose musing
accept the blessing, even if subtle

But, should these two ducks
be some divine contribution
made complete by my seeing them
Still, I am a passer-by
I am but a passer-by