Poor Baby

On Tuesdays I commute, to lend a hand
with work I’ve done for half a century.
My brain’s still functional – I understand
the guts of a consulting industry.
But he whom I support has got to be
at home in isolation (Covid’s way).
So I will put my mind to poetry,
and see how many puzzles I can play.

(Huitain)

This entry was posted in Aging, Home, Poetry, Writing and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s