My Evening Routine

Sometimes I wonder what bumps in the night,

If a leaf feels joy as the wind gives it flight,

How a man feels alone in the heart of a crowd,

If a teacher dreads saying the words “Sperm Whale” aloud.

Sometimes I wonder why I wonder why,

And if I’ll stop wondering after I die.

I smile as these musings run wild through my head,

Then I crank out a poem and go off to bed.