Sardine subways, sweat-drenched commuters lose rank in rush-hour traffic. Distracted drivers, road rage, gridlock--can't wait to get home. Invested time, forgotten purpose and business card trade-off; a productive day, wouldn't you say? Rat race, corporate climb, no wonder I'm tired--all of the time.
Welcome home. Snotty faces, dirty hands reach for me, grabbing pieces, the leftover species of the stay-at-home mom. Strewn toys, busy boys, I sigh and try to smile. Laundry cycle chews up socks and minutes I don't own. I barter for hours, but there's no time to change my clothes--or my mind.
'What's for dinner?'
U-turn not allowed; I'm committed, obliged and nurture the lies I tell myself.
swallowed by darkness
purple dusk and crimson dawn
scant hours left for dreams
|