Late Again

Late Again



Monday morning and I am tired of my roving weekend
That leaves me so dissatisfied.


I heard your voice
Its wry intelligence
Handling the frustration of bureaucracy gone mad, perhaps even evil
And thought, “How balanced?”


I hear smiles in your voice,
As you laugh at my tale of email
Mistyped
A woman who wrote. “I have been busy. I was laid again for the second time this year.
Now looking for a job again.”


I heard your laughter rising
Rising above frustration
And time wasted


And like a clear bell ringing
You dropped a compliment
That rippled through my brain


A gift.


A shame your brother will keep us apart this coming weekend.

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