Day Off


I apologize in advance for the dishes

left to soak through my conscience, hamper

overflowing with dirty regret, month-old bills hanging

around like bad influences.

Cobwebs mock me from above, spiders

swing their high wire acts past spotlight beams

of a dusty circus, and the cat rustles up some

centipede rodeo.

Tomorrow it’s back to another kind of work, but

I can’t wrap my mind around piles of mending

and self-help books hopelessly holed up on my dresser,

a leaky faucet dripping apathy.

Instead, I play Nick Drake songs while time checks

my pulse, follows the light around my house, sips

an early hour glass of amber contrition and

hopes the sun won’t set.

NaPoWriMo #25

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. We may be able to live without poetry, but who would want to?


6 thoughts on “Day Off

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