I came here, ready to write the day away.

I stubbed my toe against a corner closet-step.

I warmed my coffee pot instead. 

Flopping down to the chair that needed me, like everything else in the room:

the children crying,my plants are dying,the cold called me too.

I grabbed my socks put them on,fed the babies with tiny spoons.

Sipped my mocha piping hot and then I could not write.

Ah-ey,there goes my day.