(x = space)
x
x
The War at Home
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1
I’m tired
Too much stress
Has weighed me down
Who knows
What’s heredity
What’s conditioned
By a lifetime of
Pressed down?
x
Everyone has a reason
An excuse
For being rude
And mean
In both ways,
Unkind and miserly
My money
Yes, I earned it
Is taken
And I get poor
Products in return
And services
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Does anyone else
Feel cheated
By life?
Does anyone else
Go to sleep
And wake up this way?
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And maybe
It’s not so bad
A friend
Has called and been
Generally sympathetic
And I generally
Feel better
x
Still stressed
Still weighed down
I don’t know what
To do
But keep writing
About it all
During which
I was interrupted
By my friend
x
And worry about
The news
I’ll find today
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2
I’d like to find
Me and nature
For a while
The sun, the wind
Some clarity
Of sky
Blue thinking
For a while
Wispy thoughts
That don’t have to stick
Like white dandelion
Seeds
Blown onto thistles
A day of
Unpressed thinking
For a while
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3
The war at home
Funding on trial
Some money passes
Thankfully
Aid for Ukraine
Rebuilding bridges here
That have
Fallen
Down
Rebuilding, anyway
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I guess we need
To keep moving
Throw off
That Mayberry feeling
That sitting outside
Floyd’s
On a hot day
Is a good thing
Taken down the long,
Front porch
Relegate its place
Build something
Whose plans
Whose generation lies
Around the corner
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C L Couch
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Photo by Hans Isaacson on Unsplash
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clcouch123 
March 10, 2022 at 7:04 pm
Sitting outside Floy’s is a good thing. I feel the weight of the world too. I turned off the TV. There is no point in watching the news. i so relate to this poem.
March 10, 2022 at 8:55 pm
I think outside Floyd’s is a good thing, too, and porch-sitting, generally. I’m both pleased and sad knowing that you relate to the poem. Pleased and sad that I relate.