I came here, ready to write the day away.
I stubbed my toe against a corner closet-step.
I warmed my coffee pot instead.
Flopping down to the chair that needed me, like everything else in the room:
the children crying,my plants are dying,the cold called me too.
I grabbed my socks put them on,fed the babies with tiny spoons.
Sipped my mocha piping hot and then I could not write.
Ah-ey,there goes my day.