AIMLESS

He has his desultory moods.
He flits from this to that
and cannot focus.
He might surf the  channels on TV –
might pull books from their shelves
perusing  some of them awhile.
He might wish the telephone would ring –
a neighbor would stop by.
He  might try to write a poem and fail.

He’d like to think
he’s always doing what he should –
that he is doing good
with all the time he’s been allotted.
But if honesty prevails
that’s not the case.