I’m from the rain we finally got, Come on, Rain! has vanished overnight
I’m from heat your nan in the toaster
while sunrise shafts light up old plaster.
I’m from the theory of I’d love to write and Mr. Early Grey sustains me
I’m from weekend tax appointment get your grant report done and oh yeah,
You have a demo for 60 perfect stranger teachers first thing Monday.
I’m from take a breath
Eat spaghetti with Mom
Watch one, only one episode of Gilmore Girls
Sipping one, only one teensy glass of pinot noir.
I’m from a sleepy neighborhood where I went out to a bare driveway for the Sunday paper
And watched the battered old car spin in the intersection
Swoop around and fling the red plastic sack of news at my feet.
I’m from a desk piled with opinion writing clutter
My head is packed with unwritten parts of the presentation.
I have roots that need to be dyed over today
and yet. The sun makes birds begin to twitter.
The wet windows are bright with promise.
I’m from get another cup of tea.
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