5/365

We had some friends over tonight for
deep dish greek pizza
and IPAs.

It was a tame night
of middle aged conversations about
books, TV shows, worst school trips,
and other mundane things I cannot recall.

I tempered my drinking
because I have a long run tomorrow
and the hangovers hurt more than they used to.

“What’s your poem going to be about tonight,”
Sarah asks.

I didn’t have an answer when she asked,
and I don’t have one
as it nears midnight,
and I scratch these few words before bed.

It was another day
in a new year,
I drove the kids round,
thought my little thoughts
and this is all I have to show for it.

You tell me what this poem is about.