Cold this morning
heater on,
porch light still at 8:18 a.m.
being careless with energy.
I slept late, compensating
for wake-ups,
and your snoring
which I tried to cuddle out
of you, pressing close to
your warm back.
Letting my own spot turn
I’ve done that a lot lately.
Too much of that in my life.
Neglecting my own patch
because someone else
is injured or traveling
or sad, or just plain bad.
Weeds grown up.
Muscles flaccid from lack of
dreams forgotten on scraps of paper.
My desk a foreign territory
I once traveled.