There is a cut elm log
in the shade of a large ash tree
on which I like to sit out of the sun 
from which I like to look out 
or in at me

who am l? I ask
most reverently
then discussion ensues
determinedly

I pause to think 
on the answers I hear
I pause and reflect 
on what comes to bear

with my elbows placed 
gently 
upon my knees
I balance my chin 
while I shoot the breeze

in memory I keep 
a record of my thoughts 
from under the tree
where ideas are caught

my log from a log 
stores in signs and degrees
while I sit in the shade
shooting the breeze