Some days seem longer and some
seem shorter. Seemed longer and
I still have to vacuum.
Some poems are longer; some are
shorter. Today may have to be
shorter. I’m exhausted. I think the
fire pit assembly wore me out.
She made coffee this morning. Our
weekday blend. I was dragging.
I needed a gallon of hi-test.
Didn’t write my book today. Too
brain weary. [Poetry is different. In
my blood, I think.] Did a few
Christmas cards; about five a year.
Going to try Epsom salts for my feet
later. [Might work better on my head.]
I do believe “lethargic” is my word for
She had peanut butter toast. I had a
single matzo that I break in thirds if
it cooperates. Butter them all, but
apricot jam only on one. Usually the
first one. Sweet once; salty twice.
We talked about the two series we’ve
been watching on Netflix and the fact
that they’ve gone in different directions.
The main characters have taken a turn.
We may not want to go there.
One is a Swedish offering. We only have
two episodes left for this season. Probably
watch them. The other a long running
Canadian show; after seeing seventy
episodes, we may give it a rest. Not sure.
Dark in about an hour. Vacuum, here I come.
Odd day. Even the poem got larger toward
bottom. Lethargy has set in. Oh coffee!
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)