Nothing To Write Home About (Poetry)

It is a daunting space —
this page to fill with snippets
good or bad
but news is non-existent
day by day
no happenings — not one
of any note

Life slips on by
like breathing in and out
unthinkingly
no need to concentrate
on tasks that simply
come about by rote
not a single thing
worth mentioning

Am I happy?
When I stop to think
elbow-deep in suds
where conscience stands
at the kitchen sink
I waver — yes and no
but how I put it
into correspondence —
find the soapy words —
escapes me

So I keep the missive brief
busy with excuses
yet knowing there is news
in what I’ve failed to say