12/30 Poems in November: Real Life

pinball

Didn’t write a poem today.
Went to see some art.
Played pinball.
Took a nap.
Had a hard conversation
with my wife.
Listened even harder.
Cried. Shared. Felt better.
Then she made me laugh.
Now we’re in bed.
And I thought, oh shit.
Didn’t write a poem today.

12/30

**

I’m more than a third of the way through a month of daily poems, to support the Center For New Americans in Northampton, Massachusetts. I’m halfway now to my $500 goal. Want to chip in? No amount is too small. 

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