HOME OFFICE

Well, B.B., the thrill is not gone,

but requires that I turn the desk toward the room,

the interior walls and nooks and crannies,

away from the window with all its distractions…

children riding bikes, giggling

husbands banished to their garages, puttering

strangers delivering flyers in the heat of the afternoon…

do feel free to sit on the porch

in the shade

for a moment

but do not knock,

do not disburb me,

I get to acknowledge you only when my work is done

which may not be soon.