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
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.