The grocery boy stuff blue bags
the dry cleaner hands me pressed suits
and linen blouses
the gardener prunes trees
loads brittle sticks into a red wheel barrow
and today everyone gets paid
as I write checks in sequence
and make a valentine -shaped cake.
My daughter waltzes down the hall
while my son shaves his face
tapping a razor on the porcelain sink
and the baby, two years old
pushes metal cars across a polished wood floor
mouthing the word "juice"
and the corn boils over the stove top
and a roast seers in the oven
while the washing machine spins a cycle
and the rain beats down
and the cat climbs the curtains
and the television blares a child's tune
and here I am looking for places to hide
a place to weep and nobody notices
a damn thing.
EDWIN
Regis