Nature (on 95)

Just a poem about one of those magical, ordinary moments we all have (when we're open to them).

Nature intrudes at the most unexpected of moments,
like when I'm crawling through rush hour traffic on 95
(on a Friday, no less),
and suddenly I notice LEAVES:
orange
               red
                         yellow
                                     brown
blowing across the interstate, pelting mine and the other cars.

My eyes, tickled, snap open now.

So I notice also:

birds,
          swooping and dancing in twisting Vs
(in contrast to a plane that arches evenly, slowly overhead).

and

clouds,
mountains of them, all a thick blue-gray,
piled softly one on top of another,
like folded blankets
(heaviest on bottom, thinnest on top).

Nature intrudes the most unexpected of moments--
and at this moment,
my tight rush-hour heart falls open,
and I am glad.