The Spontaneous Day

I

Crazed bare trees
sway in the piercing chill
east from Lake Michigan
walking down the sidewalk
salt stained cement
bundled up to the neck
eyes gazing downward
blanked by the thoughts
of romance
and better situations

II

For now
on to the bus stop
I go
only doing what's logical
and expected
inserting the hard earned bus ticket
choosing a seat
commuting to the laboring destination

III

Waiting
for that one spontaneous day
where the routine of practicality
will cease making sense
and realism will not fade
but ignite in an impulsive fire
turning into simple and forgetful ash

All that will be left
is living unbelievably
in a dream
finding all that is impossible
easy and silly

IV

This spontaneous day
might be sooner than you think