Under the covers with my baby on one side and my husband on the other

I think of my day and how I’m satisfied with most of it

Got a lot done, had a nap, and still had time to feed the kiddos

Even still,

I decide to wait till my eyes are heavy to write my poetry

Maybe it’s my thing, writing sleepy

If I’m tired the filter is tired too so I can just say it all

whatever it is I have to say that day.

-Saschia