Weekend Poetry

It was sort of a hazy, cloudy day, yesterday.

I got up and threw on a warm blanket.

I covered my shoulders with said blanket,

then I pulled out my notebook and wrote.

Here's just one of the poems my muse whispered to me.  

It's called 

Saturday.

I thought ahead to my busy day, 

but the chores could wait for a bit.

I hope you like it.

Just remember, it is copyrighted.

Saturday

Chores to do.
Errands to run.
Laundry in the dryer.
I almost sat down for lunch,
but
I couldn’t eat fast enough that way.
Neighbors are having a party
for their
95 year old grandma.
I asked her
how she survived so long.
She smiled,
“Kids did some of the chores.
I snuck a smoke outside.
I gave me some time to relax.
When they left home,
I snuck a beer each night.
Oh, and I took a nap each day.”
Well, I’m not that old,
and their nana died later that day.
My chores are done.
My errands are run.
The laundry is folded from the dryer.
I had dinner with the kids.
We talked and ate and laughed.
Next week, I’ll go to the funeral.
Nana, I’m glad you lived the life you did.
Oh, I’m going to take a nap.

copyright 8/29/15 

by 

Mallory Hoffman

Weekend Poetry