The Boss

An hour could pass

as a bear rolls around

My twin den sinks in

but the spring buds abound


Nine hours too little

my email chirps red

Anne asks to stay home

I grant her some rest


Husband makes tea

Goes in for the kiss

With anxious foreshadow

I check my wrist


My heartbeat picks up

As I breathe out a chill

Pondering the mirror, too

young to fit the bill?


The metro box squeals

Bullies west down the street

To a ripe enterprise

In lax Venice Beach



Rehearsing the speech

But my team could mock

Unlike backs of seats


The brick pillars smile

My bag swings up the stairs

Riddled with faults

But they know that I care


Good morning one sighs

Coffee hot at my leisure

The boss to whom cares

My unexpected pleasure

This poem is about: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741