142/365

the soft hum of the ceiling fans,
the cat’s water fountain,
a gentle groan as she shifts
her place on the couch.

a minute ago
there was nothing
save for frustration
and trying to salvage
the drunken garbage
from last night.
thought it was decent,
but looks ridiculous
with the passing of time.

nothing here
about plums
or wheelbarrows,
just a few more hacks
of the ax to make
the kindling that might
lead to an inferno
down the line.

i stop somewhere
waiting for you.
a good enough place
to end for the night