Putting up a fight

A hazy cloudy afternoon

The eyes are drooping

It’ll be bedtime, not a moment too soon.

Children playing

A world awaits

The mind explodes

Or the eyes close

A quiet spot

A laptop plugged in

An open WORD document

Just waiting to begin

The perfect moment

To get in and get to it

Reluctance needs banishment

The poet in me knows it.

A thousand things

To be done this afternoon

But none are pressing

None needing to be done soon.

I oft complain about having no time to write

So why when I have it, do I put up a fight?

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