Doing Nothing

The flowers are potted;
The feeder's been filled.
(If I saw a hummingbird, 
I would be thrilled.)

The crossword is finished;
My email's been read.
It's hours too early
To think about bed.

So I am relaxing,
The radio playing,
Enjoying the breeze
And the trees it is swaying.

The city still courses
In all of my veins
But sometimes it's time
To pull back on the reins...

And soak up the silence 
And yield to the chance
To do nothing with nobody
Looking askance.