Bring Back Big Families

One poem every day for twenty-eight straight days this February. Suffice it to say, I’m in my Poetry Era.

Alarm clock ringing

loudly across the bedroom.

5:10 comes too fast. 

---

Kitchen light stings my

eyes never really rested. 

The oven is set. 

---

Lunches packed, breakfast

commences with groggy heads. 

Breakfast rouses all. 

---

7:00, out the door. 

Kisses, hugs, see you later. 

Another commute. 

---

Work. Long hours spent

teaching teenagers all day. 

Four o’clock is here. 

---

Decompressing in

the driver’s seat, therapy. 

Work ends, life begins. 

---

Welcome home, children

ready to play for a bit. 

Short break, then dinner. 

---

In the bathroom, door

flung open, children enter. 

Moment of peace gone.

---

The kitchen, my lair. 

Chef, short order cook, and dad. 

Everyone will eat. 

---

Noodles on the floor,

dinner done, bellies happy. 

Desserts start flying. 

---

Bath time comes too soon. 

Cleanup is torture unknown. 

Time for bed arrives. 

---

Bedtime, oh, bedtime. 

Once each day, the day must end. 

Their party starts now. 

---

Exhausted, ready

to throw in the towel now. 

Bed time one, dad zero. 

---

Finally asleep,

I escape for moments few. 

Sleep. For now, enough.