Part Time Poet
When I can, I try to find time to write?
My days are very busy with an eight-
Month-old boy and a small Yorkie.
Before the day is done, I feel kind of dorky.
I start my day walking the dog, feeding the baby, cleaning, cooking,
And a full-time playmate to this little boy; to him I am his toy.
Having almost no time, even when the cuckoo clock chimes,
I lie down and rest while he sleeps,
or I will feel crappy; I have to refresh myself.
Reading is one of my pass-times, now all of my books are on a shelf.
On a warm day, I put him and the dog in the stroller,
Like a good little soldier.
I walk them down to the park with my feet achy
And sit under a dawn redwood tree.
The dog runs around,
While baby and I enjoy the cool spring
Breeze as it teases with its coolness
And plays with the baby's hair with its kindness
Tousling it around. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath
In, like water running over his head while taking a bath.
I feel glad, but also mad, and sad,
I should have brought my pencil and writing pad.
7/6/2019
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