Moss

I am having a hard time concentrating today. I just keep staring out my window looking at the tree outside. I am imagining myself as a squirrel zipping around the tree. Up and down the curved branches. I am moving so fast that the moss hanging down swings as I fly by it. I then stop at the end of a branch that overlooks the opening to the Gulf of Mexico. It’s not close enough today.
Looking down the limbs of the tree, back at myself sitting in my chair starring at the computer I feel sorry for me. I am a slave to the machine.
Viva Mexico