Day 5 National Poetry Month 2015

Compact disc, coin, magnifying glass from Tim.

I woke up about seven and got up right away.
I grabbed a quilt, the red one my sister, Nancy,
made with about a thousand tiny squares,

and went out on the porch to write today's poem.
I went to my list of words and Tim's three popped
out at me so I copied and pasted them here.

Then I waited.  The sky turned lavender.
I waited. The sun started slipping from behind
the horizon like a compact disc ejecting

from a computer.  I had to get up and take
a few pictures.  I checked Facebook and Words
with Friends, made a few plays, went to my

mail and had a message from Amazon about
new books for April.  One about grammar
piqued my interest so I downloaded a sample.

Okay, I know I'm a nerd.  Then I came back
here to write.  I waited some more.  Just sat
in a chair with my back to the bright sun

and thought about my brother, wishing he
and his wife could be here with us today.
We, the three female siblings who live

in Florida, are going for a boat ride with
our husbands, my niece, and a friend.
In the meantime, I sit here waiting for

inspiration.  The canal is Reynold's Wrap
smooth and silvery.  A notice pops up
that my Slotomania bonus is ready

so I collect it then return to these ramblings.
If you could position a magnifying glass
over my life, you wouldn't see much more

than what is right here.  I get up, I fiddle
on my iPad, I try to write, then continue
with my day.  That's it.  That's what you'd

see.  But, don't hold that magnifying
glass on me for too long, especially,
if the sun is shining through it, because

I might just begin to burn, burn
for something more, for coins
of excitement, drama, adventure.

So, stop.  I don't want to burn out
too quickly.  I bend my white curls
over my keyboard, My fingers

tap on letters.  I make words
turn into stanzas and stanzas
turn into the simplicity of my life.