A poem a day in April – yet, here it is.  Friday.  Friday the 13th even.  And I am not inspired, not a glimmer of an idea.  So I look out the window and reflect on what I see.

The rain runs down my window
It is dark and
Gusty, wet.
Cold.
My coffee cup
Is warm in hand
The light glows
beside the chair.
Yellow dog
Is at my feet.

Work calls,
but all I really
Want to do,
Is cuddle in that
Blanket,
Fall into that book,
And stay at
Home today.