Crumpled

Sitting, crumpled before

my computer screen,

having shared an

wonderful meal out 

with my wife and then  

watched a bit of TV

together, discussing what to do

over the weekend,

and over our upcoming  

holiday in Noordhoek,

 and now at over twelve

I am wondering 

whether to carry on

and write a poem

or give it a skip,

but now I see all these

words are arriving

magically on the screen,

as I fall towards sleep

and work tomorrow,

and some how

through the sleepy

state I am happy. 

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