Poetry

I go to work in an hour or less, I shake

my feeble mind awake and count the minutes.

It seems like yesterday that I was by the lake

and drinking summer drinks and eating peanuts.

.

I breath a heavy sigh and try to focus,

but my vision keeps returning to the hazy

late days, not lost, just buried with the crocus.

The basking in the sun swept sand and lazy

.

reclining among the lack of necessary tasks

and letting my mind go on it’s wandering path

imagination wild with facades and masks,

each possibility taking me further from the math

.

that waits upon my desk. Checkbook to balance,

the bills to pay, a job to do, can’t leave it to chance.