My last Daily Poem of April. Now, I’ll take a break for a bit from daily poems.
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Out of Here
©April 30th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Rain pours down like complaints
Upon today’s daffodils,
And the dog won’t hear of it.
Nor will I. Yesterday is washed away.
Nap-time seems the only out,
After chores, and mundane matters,
Like the making of lunch. I sleep.
Dreams of wounded animals flood
My mind, and I wake up, panicked,
Fearing for my dog, who, praise be!
Lies at the foot of the bed,
Making sure I won’t float away
And get trapped in sleep forever.
It was that kind of day.
Now night beckons.
I have vacated myself.
I am out of here.
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