Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Bad Hair Day

Some days are better than others. Today was not really one of them.

Bad Hair Day
Starting early,
somewhere east of the snap-crackle-pop
of dawn, I rose
to an aching head, itchy eyes,
and the dry scratch
of something sick
just a little deeper
than I wanted to dive
before I choked
on the smell of snow
and forced myself
to care enough to catch
the bus, man
my desk, and make
the work that makes
me feel like I make
a difference
most days.
But not today.
Not when rain, hail, and snow
all fell in equal measure
along with tender cherry blossoms
and my spirit,
drifted to the the cold, wet
ground, and I didn't even bother
to reach down
to pick it up.

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