Author: maiamom

Butterflies.  Rainbows.

A heart that feels light.

Blankets that snuggle.

Sweet dreams in the night.

Aging’s not an easy thing

though each of us must do it.

Complications block the way

as we go bumbling through it.

My heavy duty big string mop

is not a mop for sissies.

It’s meant for heavy duty guys

like Ajax or Ulysses.

The tool will clean an urban mall

or mop a factory floor.

And when  you’ve got three cats at home.

it cleans the kitchen floor.

The bunnies munch my marigolds

for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

The bunnies get much fatter while

my marigolds get thinner.

The Uvalde children haunt me.

Muffled screams.  A panicked cry.

A nation’s shame on full display.

We watch our children die.

The President got arrested.

It’s a page in history.

Melania got her hair done.

(It’s him.  It’s not about me).

My Fuzzy-Wuzzy Flip-Flop mop is cute as it can be.

But, when it comes to cleaning floors,

it only gets a D.

My heavy-duty old string mop’s not bright or cute or gay.

But, when it comes to cleaning floors,

it clearly gets an A.

Today is gone.

Tomorrow waits.

A new day’s always pending.

A new day’s always on its way.

The old one’s always ending.

It’s an ordinary day in June.

Ev’rything’s just as it ought-er.

The sky is gray.

The air is cold.

And the clouds are dribbling water.