Much More Interesting (Revised) Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Wednesday 2 January 2013, the kids have a party,
my son's room has been fixed and he has not had
time to mess it up yet, my own messy cupboard is
looming, magazines hidden in a big suitcase, you
said they had to go but I keep them until the kids
have all the pictures they need

Dirty dishes stacked, firmly fixed in the present, no
vision or hope for a new tomorrow - accepting these
moments enclosed in this space and time are to be
fully experienced - small it all is, without jumping
from reality into a dream I am aware that physical
life is very cramped

Home from a holiday means nothing has changed in
my mind, if I cannot escape there's nothing to be
said until new term at work and documents to be
relayed from French; an only change is our aging,
finding I share aches and medications with all the
people I meet, growing old without much grace

Such is life - an experiment to stay anchored in my
own being is bearing fruit: I rediscover the need to
recreate everything in a dream where all is much
more interesting