The Mess
Night has returned.
The day I missed,
Spent hours with eyes closed,
Limbs wrapped in sheets that never were
To remain fresh for long.
And, still, I want time to pass.
The hum of the freezer lulls the minutes,
A sagging balloon scratches another,
Movement geared from nowhere.
The dishes are stacked,
The pillows askew,
A carpet of crumbs needs cleaning.
Not today.
The remnants of yesterday, the day before,
And the one before that,
Can stay for a while.
Maybe I’ll move on tomorrow.
Always appreciate poets – people who can use words more economically than I do. I’ll move on now to check out a few of your other works.
Later…
Many thanks for your comments! I really appreciate you taking the time to look.
Regards,
SJ