*****here within the waking land
where days are spent and love is made
each day's like one more grain of sand
or blade of grass in sunny glade******

On waking I abuse the clock
like on nearly every morning
the silence brings a minor shock
as if I muted some fair warning
my bedmate groans her own distraction

I pat her on familiar flank
then yawn and stretch, let flee a fart
beneath the pillows her head sank
to avoid such a morning start
no surprise at her reaction

Before too long I'm out the door
as my love gives me a goodbye kiss
like so many times before
most of my days begin like this
my bare pate greets the rising sun

I think about the day to come
the morning filled with a house plan
its rooms, its room, its atrium
to be built for an older man
we'll review each view and each wall section

By lunch I know all that I need
the spec sheet filled out in detail
a handshake and we've both agreed
on all that this job will entail
I'll call should I need more information

I pull up to a fast food place
and get into the drive through line
a satisfied small smile on my face
so far this day has gone just fine
idle thoughts now turn to introspection

I wonder where my life will lead
and recall all that I've done wrong
and how with love a tiny seed
can last so long and grow so strong
for one so filled with imperfections

Then I wonder 'bout that dream last night
(and I seldom recall dreams)
especially so clear and bright
as vivid as autumn sunbeams
it now causes a mid day distraction

"Five fifty please."puts end to musing
I pay here and obtain my lunch
my next action open to my choosing
so I turn left on a mere hunch
then right at the next intersection

For there's a wooded tract near here
Where I can dine beneath a shade
through open windows I might hear
squirrels scold or turkeys in a glade
while I eat in peaceful satisfaction

Tires groan on gravel as I park
I silence the engine with my key
immediately some squirrels bark
at the commotion caused by me
a hawk glides on a warm convection

Before too long the barking stops
I spot small gray forms ascending trees
toward acorns in the high tree tops
which barely move in the noon breeze
every few moments it changes direction

While looking down an old skid track
so far it's almost out of sight
a small buck with its polished rack
crosses from my left to right
with grace approaching near perfection

Just as my gaze leaves the old track
peripherally I barely see
a figure which snaps my green eyes back
I glimpsed shaggy dun, but it can't be
this must be last night's dream reflection

I smile at self, a bigfoot? Riiight
They've never been seen around here
nor howled their howls on full moon night
I must have seen a bear or deer
my imagination's having fun

Lunch now done I crank my truck
and turn the wheels back to the right
thinking that with any luck
I'll complete client's estimate tonight
at least the lumber take-off section

But on the roadside autumn glows
with blaze of weeds and poplar trees
with white and blue where asters grow
before first hint of any freeze
a random intermixed collection

At home I sit in my old chair
with blueprints spread, pencil in hand
my concentration, though, elsewhere
it's drifted to that other land
instead of on the plan's dissection

As mind wanders eyelids droop low
and inner eye looks far away
led astray by a lone crow
to where imaginations play
I glide with crow in that direction..............
******end part 4*******