zapped

you spend the day hunched in yr cube & when you get up & wander thru the corridors of identical cubes you run into others who when you ask how their doing they say i'm tired & so you are too slogging along until the end of the day when the bell rings & you can go home you wonder if you can make the long trek thru the city its streets its traffic its denizens who are also on their short march to their homes heads down furrowed & narrowed in self-combustion when you find that spring is almost here & you can hear the birdsong under the traffic horns see the buds shoot green red & purple from tree limbs & you discover that you are no longer zapped of energy & you say to yourself as if it was a prayer yes it was all worth it the whole slog of the day all of it just for this walk home & this life at home