Lazy today, all.
Dogs, young lovers, solitary son, mother.
Bone tired, scratchy eyes, refusing to rise.
Lazy lazy lazy.
The small flat bear lies face down
at the foot of my bed as if even he
cannot be bothered cannot stand
the thought on this quiet day.
Clocks have artificially taken
an hour from our night.
Rain drips lackluster
too tired to pour.
Air does not stir.
Lazy lazy lazy.
Having sprung forward
the day itself
seems to have found
its energy now spent.