Eight Days

I started Poetry two zero one
Thinking it could be lots of fun
But I’ve gotten a cold
And I’m feeling so old
And I long for a glimpse of the sun

Outside the door are piles of snow
But it’s only eight days til I go
Somewhere where it’s hot
It’s a tropical spot
And warm are the breezes that blow

Eight days til I set foot on the plane
Has my planning all been in vain?
And I feel like a jerk
I’ve stayed home work
Waiting for this wheezing to wain

The things on my list must get done
I’ll cross each one off one by one
Though my list is so long,
Worry doesn’t belong
While I’m lying about in the sun

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