my children miss me
and I miss myself
the floors are dirty
and I have other more important things to do.
The modern metro sensitively in touch one
is left unattended
and maybe he will be snaffled by lovers, or mermaids or exhaustion or flappy birds.
I have it all now
(although not all of it has me)
I intend to dote on it, devoted to it
it pays the bills and buys the pillows
and i love it
but i miss the quiet
of simple devotion to my family.