For forty years she had to multi-task –
the office and dependents had their needs.
As if she bore a harness, wore a mask,
the woman found scant time to write or read
or meditate. Most days she wrote a list,
accomplishing the needful first and best,
deriving satisfaction while she missed
the pathways seldom noticed by the stressed.

But now the kids are launched, the dog’s no more,
the office carries on without too much
of her, and she has time for hummingbirds.
Don’t ask her what she plans tomorrow. Sure,
she’ll fill the day – she’ll think and make and touch
ideas she can’t describe till afterwards.