I do not want to rise to my feet.
But there’s no snooze button on a child.
Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat.

This place is a ******* mess.
I tidy up while she watches Dora explore;
I do not like being on my feet.

I brew four cups of Maxwell House
and check the mirror to make sure I look alive.
Rise. Shine? Sleep. Repeat.

Into the car and off to the sitter’s.
She and I dance to pop songs on the radio.
Upon the car’s pedals, I tap my feet.

I drop her off and drive to work where
I drop off hot plates to hungry guests.
Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat.

I pick her up, go home, and cook dinner;
then bath time, bed time, homework.
Will I ever feel stable on my feet?
Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat.