Some days are grey corners of quiet libraries
where nobody bothers to read the books.
Where piles of unmarked papers
and the river passing by are cause for catholic guilt.
Some days are shallow holes dug in front yards
filled in with trips to Bunnings,
grinning garden gnomes
and bags of chicken shit.
Today was a pyjama babyccino date,
a laughing hose in the face,
and a two year old smile saying chase me.
Simon Kindt 