The Sprite

Swimming around in my brain, uncontested in their control,

the nymphs of whimsy dance and frolic,

perhaps nudged by an occasional cosmic wave

or a  graviton, passing through, uncaring

as to its effects, and my mind goes ahead

as if it had a path before it, all planned out.

I stop in front of the magazine stand,

the colors, faces, breasts, cameras, cars, muscles

dive into my neurons like Olympic swimmers,

push themselves across the field of my attention,

and then I remember to buy wine and milk and bread,

and the tail-end wisps of those swimmers fade away…..or seem to.

Who manages what? Am I in charge, and

in charge of what? I stand for my personality

and the right of my “I” and challenge whatever

may claim to own the direction of my life.

Who is this who speaks out in my defense?

It is but the sprite of the moment …..