doctored up lies
 shot into their arms
 while i hold dirty pamphlets–
 tears and angst spill to the floor,
 betrayed on all fronts
 
 a McDonalds stop is all it takes
 to win second breakfast
 and semi-forgiveness
 (all before the sun breaks noon)
 
 there is no holiday,
 no sleeping in or forgetting that
 tomorrow brings a slew of
 ungrateful teens
 
 just errands, yard work,
 sweeping leaves to
 mid-February winds
 that have just now offered
 a day without snowcover
 
 children who need beds
 that i’ll never afford,
 a makeup piano lesson
 to forgive forgetfulness–
 never, never a break
 
 (until that lesson offers,
 in waning winter sun,
 a circle i make
 around the soft mud trail
 of my youth, found in this park)
 
 and my girls clean the bathroom,
 set the table, chime in,
 prepare the house for grandparents
 and early birthday joy
 
 because even on a Monday
 (holiday or not)
 family is what wakes us at dawn,
 brings tears to the floor,
 and makes our walks worth walking