Eyes open and close in the darkness
just before I start to toss, turn and get up again
play solitaire and go back to bed.
Sitting in the early evening, cat purring,
pale ale in a tall glass and a warm fire burning.
I’m afraid I have to write my life to see it.
Which is strange, sad and all too true.
I’ll be briefed on two new projects
and a third in the afternoon.
Then I’ll walk the dog.
Later friends will come for dinner,
we’ll go to the Whitetail Tavern,
listen to Mississippi Heat
and dance til we’re exhausted.
Maybe I’ll decide my life is blessed,
but more likely, it will still need work.