Chipper Samson

 Chipper Samson at his desk today
The light pouring in from his huge blindless window
The intensity of it stirred him encroaching on his desk space
Hot steaming coffee next to his computer now sunlit

Focusing on the figures thinking over the strategies
Moving the mouse shakily in carpal tunnel agony
Stress invades the once smooth brow furrowing it
Bends down like an invalid, sends a text to his doctor

Then he stands up and stretches as if hands are holding him down
He catches a glimpse of the city six floors below mostly cool shade
He sees an old man, cheese cutter his rough collie walking in step
Their rapport stings Samson's ego, for his own dog is unruly

The soft yet intentional strides would be how angels walked in heaven
Samson decided, so much balance, posture and honesty in the movement
His own longing to be down there retired and relaxed urged resentment
He avoided the thought and swanned over to the water cooler

several colleagues were muttering in the code of their private joke
He seemed to irritate them with his mere presence so he turned away
as he did he heard them snigger was he entering as the butt here?
He turned around and displayed a smile so unnatural silence erupted

His colleagues were temporarily stunned and looked pale
Samson turned to walk back to his work station
The manager interrupted him and said
I love that chipper smile Samson, how about a raise?