Lightweights
       

Even in these hostile times,
I sort of prefer those people
others consider
lightweights.

Those who,
during the meeting,
doodle in the margins,
inking out long-stemmed daisies
with words rising up
out of the stamens.

Watch how they're
not really ruffled
when referred to
as loafing.

Their tenacity
at not being
too insistent—
now that's a feat.

A mouse could run off
with their crumbs
and they wouldn't flip out,
call in a search party,
order a fatwa.

I imagine they know already
that plot is simply
what it is
—mostly a distraction—
that what matters
hasn't happened yet,
the realm of the possible,
which sometimes
doesn't occur.

While others strategize,
organize coalitions,
they fiddle with a grass blade,
inspecting its shape.

When they speak up,
it's to ask
some loll-about question
already drifting
right out of the room.

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Copyright © 2012 Jeff Hardin All rights reserved
from Southern Poetry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission