There isn’t usually a reason,

sort of just happens in the afternoon.

The morning played a role.

We awakened from a dream,

the ones we remember,

yet minutes later it’s gone.

The day lays out an agenda,

go back and return again,

keep beating that dead horse.

These manners we seem to choose,

no matter the provocation,

we recognize only that salient idea.

Once inside the mind plays a role,

letting us remember and ruminate,

I’d rather simply move forward.

That’s the plan anyway as it lays out,

skip the reminisce and move on down the road.