She's Running Bath Water. Poem by Alistair Plint

She's Running Bath Water.



Worked retail
for dinner vouchers
most of the strong years
Time spent earning
taxation coffers

Learned to hate Fridays
Retail Fridays are
repetitive hell
leaving the best
spent
exhausted

Eight months ago
life happened
Friday nights transformed into
magical times

I do the entrance
married men
take for granted
Walk up
outside my home
put the key in the door
open it
just enough

Shout
"hunny, I'm home! "

These days
I live for Fridays


xxx

Saturday, May 19, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love,love and life
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Alistair Plint

Alistair Plint

Johannesburg, South Africa
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