Doing Nothing I Like Poem by Marilyn Jean
Doing Nothing I Like
I knew when I woke
Despite the distant hope
Of birds singing at dawn
A First this year
The day would be grey
Slow and I would feel low
And now it is just so
I wait for Monday
Doing chores as I go
Trying to ignore it
The heart sighs and wallows
And so it is life
In the shallow end
The little flow drowning me
Surely even as I go slow
O, so very slow
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: boredom
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5/10/2024 6:51:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
