Why do You want my attention?
The humming bird distracted me.
The cupboard, left open, gaped at me.
The white noise downpour fascinated me.
“Come,” You say, “and I will show you things.”
“Just a minute,” I say, “A field mouse. See it?”
I have this family to feed, and seed for the feeder.
My children will rise like an apocalypse.
You still want my attention?
“For a little while, before the questions, demands,
and heavy loads flop over your shoulder.”
You read my disheveled mind like a morning paper.
“It’s news to me, and I care.”