The best work is done eyes closed, legs curled into downy white. Posing like this—letting the mind unwind and bring forth voices from the in-between— brings clarity once you’re back on shod feet, eyes open, directing everyone else up the ladder. The best work is done leaning forward, hands in your lap, as the boss speaks around the unspoken that sounds more like truth. You’ll write it all down later, on a white board meant for staring at. The best work is done over top-shelf drinks. Music does a slow dance in the background, overhead lights are softening edges, the day is on rewind. Your meal is being served. Taste every bite.
Today’s poem is partially inspired by Day 16 from A Month Of Poetry Prompts.