Outside is Better than Inside

Outside, outside is better than inside.
Outside my thoughts don't clamor around,
ricocheting off the walls
until they muddle together in smog that blocks the ceiling.

Outside, outside where the air is getting crisper
like a preview for a weather show,
"coming this fall!"
(pun intended)
.

Outside,
Outside is better than inside.
Outside where labels float away
because my ears can't hear the words my eyes see when my pockets feel the vibrations of them.

Outside,
outside where I walk and walk til my legs forget and my arms forget and my chest forgets the strain
and calm kicks in
where the air, the sidewalk, the looming peaks above and the magma deep beneath
we're all here together
the disconnect of devices dissipating
and the nearness of nature renewing.

Outside,
outside is better than inside.

Comments

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

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God is Good to the Johnsons

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