I made it to the end—barely.



Going, going, and then falling asleep sitting up. I'm too busy. I make myself this way sometimes, but other times, it is from simple daily life with children, work, aspirations, and every other good thing.

I am tired. I've read slices about being tired or exhausted, and I have to tell you that things don't really get easier. Things just change to be what we've wanted all along.

I've imagined myself sleeping even, and I find myself wishing I had one more week until poetry month. I wish that extra time could be real.


3 comments:

  1. You are making me want a nap and I've only been up 2 hours...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Have fun with poetry month! Maybe there is a napping poem that can help! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I saw that last line as "I with that extra time could be read," probably because if I had extra time, I'd use it to read!

    ReplyDelete

Comments are always a pleasure! Thank you!