Why do You want my attention?

The humming bird distracted me.

The cupboard, left open, gaped at me.

The white noise downpour fascinated me.

“Come,” You say, “and I will show you things.”

“Just a minute,” I say, “A field mouse. See it?”

I have this family to feed, and seed for the feeder.

My children will rise like an apocalypse.

You still want my attention?

“For a little while, before the questions, demands,

and heavy loads flop over your shoulder.”

You read my disheveled mind like a morning paper.

“It’s news to me, and I care.”