By mistake I veered right
and took the bifurcation to the west
instead of east
and in front of me was the dead sun
when I went to it.
Heck the Hall!
I am cleaned floor, washed dishes and folded laundry.
I am the busy hands.
Should I continue?
to be just good for cooked meals,
well-warmed and pliable in bed
Is it my lack of courage?
I am a muted spirit, with dwarfed dreams and sabotaged inspirations.
I am useless without a mop, elbow-deep in detergent, folding my life in the grease of expectation.
Heck the hall!
It is my season.