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.