Thinking too much
These days
Leads to blue ink
Scribbled hastily on a white steno pad,
The words left behind
Reflected back
Magnified
Smudged
By unwanted, frustrated tears
That I can’t seem
To turn
Off.
They seem to cease
Or are eased
By glasses of wine,
Only to return
Stronger
Just like our leaky roof.
I put a tarp down
Until we could fix it
(So we could ignore it)
But then it shifted.
The rain got worse
And the leak did, too.
This time we needed two buckets.
But on the nice days,
The dry days,
We can’t be bothered to fix it
So busy in our own worlds.
Instead a spray-can
Of sticky black sealant
Stops it
For a little while.
Not long now before
Another heavy rain.
Better stock up on wine.
And buckets.
