it's gonna be a slow day
my brain remains in bed
i am operating, all manner
of heavy machinery,
with an empty head.

the sky outside is grey
but not forlorn,
but it is making for a
slow moving morn.

my baby boy,
is sleeping still
my hubby has become
a tv sports zombie dill
and speaks in yawns and grunts
demanding a  headache pill

we all seem slow,
like treacle,
dripping off,
an ice cold spoon
perhaps i am just in
coffee and toast denial

but someone little,
is gonna, wake up soon.
then the world might
kick up a gear.
that is my, very,
rational fear.

but until then,
any which way
you want to slice it
this morning is just drifting,
caught up in a slow-mo eddy
and we all are just being dragged  along