It’s difficult to write poetry
When the sun is shining
And butterflies are circling
The breeze is cold
But out of the wind
The warmth toasts
My skin
And the dog sighs and stretches
Tail beating out a tune if I whisper her name
But she’s too lazy to get up and come over here for a pat
As the plants sketch
Shadows across the walls
And the light creeps steadily across the floor
And I think about what to write
Finally deciding
Oh this will do
On this day that meanders nowhere with nothing pressing to do
You know what I mean?
No doubt
You feel this way too
