Excuse for a Poem

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 Excuse for a Poem


Excuse me, I have something terrible to say.
I’d have edited. I got lost in the wood.
A goddess bid me “no, no art today.”
So, I missed the email, misheard, misunderstood…

Sorry, dear editor, my answer again is “no.”
I dreamt a dragon (red wings, fire breath too),
She swooped o’er swampy chapters, careening low.
It’s an omen, a sign! All my pens are blue.

What of my cat? The vet? We think it’s gout.
I can’t possibly read or write today.
A thunderstorm comes, my power’ll be out.
My children sleep. So must I, sad to say.

Know I thing or two about excuses.
Excuses from this mouth pour profusive.

In response to the prompt "Keep Making Excuses, 13th Annual Getaway 2006"  by Peter Murphy found in his collection called Challenges for the Delusional, edited by Christine Malvasi.  

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