I HAVE TIME to sleep a few hours each night, Time to play two-year-old and five-year-old games, Time to earn a living, attend church, support my communities; Time for cooking, eating, dishes, And time to admire pages, white as newest snow. A little time to read from ink-stained sheets, More time to answer the beeps, clicks, whistles Of devices at my belt, my fingertips, in my kitchen. Time for laundry (process, not event), Time to plant and feed and water and mow But not to sully pages, still white as newest snow Pickups, dropoffs, diapers, playgrounds, movies; Depression, voices, chemicals, and tests; Movies, castles, wizards, bunnies, Peeps; The minister of magic seven days a week. Still friends await correspondence And I stare longingly at pages white as newest snow Tidying, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, Backyards, museums, zoos, lakes; Banks, bills, timesheets, licenses; Distant family tech support; Groceries, clothing, presents, treats -- Time for these and so much more And journal pages white as newest snow
— Ron – 11 Jun 2007