3 A.M.

I wake at 3 a.m. and climb out of bed
as if it were a tree-house
I lean against the trunk of my dresser drawers
and stumble round the roots
of my discarded laundry.
There isn’t much to see or do at 3 a.m.
unless the toilet can be considered
Interesting in any way.
I offer my opinion on the mundane
nature of existence
even as I complicate every little aspect
of this insanely marvelous life I treasure.
Yoga with the ladies, visits with the boys
letters and drawings and pictures
from the grand-kids,
friends, golden and ripe
as peaches ready to be eaten
and still on the tree.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close