Sometimes I wake just before my alarm and
rather than get out of bed,
rather than get up, I think
of everything I could do - all
the things I'll fix - the things
I'll repaint, the windows I'll replace,
the way I'll fix Noah's room, the
garden I'll plant, the things I'll cook
with the vegetables I'll grow.
I think about the trips we'll take this summer,
the camping we'll do, the way I'll advance
at work. Then, when the alarm's fake waves
sound for the fourth time, I'm too tired to rise.