Busy Making Other Plans

There are days the bed beckons me.
I want to sleep and dream and drift for days.
I must fight the Darkness and stay awake...

There are days I will weep if that James Taylor song comes on.
The song about Carolina... I can feel the moonshine, even in December.
On those days I can hear the voice of ocean, it's been so long...

Not enough days of just us two,
Somedays I miss just us two, I want to be alone with him so I can accidently brush by...
Oops, sorry, did I touch? Please forgive...or don't. Oh no- did it again...

Days I just want to read a good book,
wearing clean pajammas and cozy socks,
while a movie is on cable that I am not watching.

There are days I want my Pap paw like no one else.
Days I ache for his conversation...his laugh...his bias love for me.

There are days I get lost on the way.
I hear that older boys voice in my head and can't shake it out.
Sometimes I sing really loud so not to hear him, angry songs.

There are days I witness our children get older.
Those days I give away the "now too small" clothes.
Days I pray to just hold on.

There are days I need a cigarette- and I don't smoke.
A drink- and I don't drink.
A joint- and I haven't smelled it in years now.

There are writing days, when I can't focus on conversation
for the words in my head.
Singing days, when I can't not at least hum.
And quiet days, when I hope to go unnoticed.

Planning days, phone calls, home work, paper work, checkbooks, bills,
School days, Work days, exhausted at the end of the day- actually before-
but can't do anything about that.

Life is what happens...