Beggar's Ride

When I find
myself cloud-
mongering

about sudden
wealth, I realize
it's generally

to extend one
of two delusions--
either to allow

me to complete
some pedestrian
transaction that sounds

good in the abstract
(buy the big
house down the road,

move to another
friendly country,
begin another

lackluster career
or retirement,
go on another tour

of somewhere
still stuck fast
to Planet Earth)

or to be able
to extend this
moment forever

for as long
as I want, for
instance, this

open-windowed moment
in the house high up
on the Rim surrounded

by empty blue, red
rocks and dusky
juniper-pinyon country.

Why do I lose
this day dreaming
of grasping it tight?

Why, when it's
here, I'm here,
now, and hardly at all?