Collapse

I was so tired at
7 p.m. that I excused myself
From the ravioli and
Gave over to my husband
The dishes and climbed
Up the stairs and in
Between the quilt and the
Vellux and let myself
Collapse into
Nothing to do. Except

Pushing my head further
Into the valley of the feathers
And counting my bones against
Muscles as it all sank against
A willing mattress.
Napping at night to the
Lullaby of three
Daughters shedding their
Day, brushing their teeth, and
Fumbling through
An Irish folk tune.

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