Some Days I Need to Choose to Not See the Mess

(From Within My Illusions)

There’s a giant inflatable orca in my entry hall. 

I’ve kicked him closer to the front door 
To clear a path from my daughter’s room to mine 
So she won’t trip when she makes her 2 a.m. visit. 
Now it looks like he’s standing guard. 

A pile of cheap, made-in-China toys 
Hatched from pastel plastic eggshells, 
Dumped next to a pink basket. 

Flowers once vibrant 
Begin to wilt.  

Earbuds wires,  
Charger wires, 
Phones, Pads, and Books 
Tethered to walls. 

Remote control batteries 
Abandoned on countertops 
Instead of in the recycling box. 
I really should buy the rechargeable kind. 

Stacks of washed containers 
Piled high on the right side of the sink, 
The left side blissfully empty.  

Paper and books and journals 
Piled in stacks  
And stacks 
And stacks.  
Kitchen table crafts, 
A football by the fireplace, 
Snowball has claimed the sofa. 

But over here, 
In this corner that’s just mine 
I can sit and rest my mind, 
Reflect on the day’s love 
And not the stress.  

I can choose not to see the mess.