The challenge for today was to write from the point of view of someone or something else... here is my poem.
At three p.m. I push back
the silk eye mask that shelters
my delicate eyes from harsh daylight.
I’ve left my charge to wade
the early hours of the day
alone, unguided, uninspired.
After a quick tossle
of my auburn curls,
I start my daily stretching
routine—poke the fantasy
still ten chapters away from completion,
poke the short story idea
she still hasn’t put to paper, poke
the poem, the one about the plum,
that she just can’t figure out.
My workout complete, I lounge
on a velvet chaise and eat cold grapes
until she calls for my aid.
I sip wine as she pounds
her head and the keyboard—
a slave to my whims.
(c) SDD 4/2008