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
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.