I have this vision of me as a writer
In this vision, I wake before dawn and sit out on my deck with a perfect coffee and write into the sunrise

Because it is still the beginning of the day, in my vision I go on to do other productive things—be a wife, mother, do some carpool, laundry.

Walk dogs on a trail, perhaps write some more, nap.

I started this wrong…

I have a delusion of me as a writer…

I am not that woman.
I wonder why I’ve held on to that vision.

I have kids—22 to be exact.
Two at home, the other 20 at school.

A lot happens before sunrise,
but before I rise, all there is, is sleep.

Why do I hold on to this vision?

My life isn’t that
It’s not even near that.

Every night I squeak out a bit of text
Just to stay afloat in this competition.

Some nights, like tonight my mind is completely blank and I wonder if I can get by with a haiku. Even then, I’m out of syllables…ideas.

My wit is drained
My observations fading
My energy melting into a heap of sleep

I find that I am at all times surrounded with love and joy and curiosity
In those moments I think, “this will be the subject of my blog!”
Then the next moment bombards, demanding attention
Awesome moments love, joy, curiosity—doesn’t leave time for pondering, mulling, typing, for coherent thought.

Not until now, bedtime.

Last night I actually typed with my eyes closed!
Hold the delusion or let it go?

I do like to write
Like coffee
Like decks…

But I also like what I’ve got,
A few slithers…
Barely slices
Before slumber.