Same path

I walked down the path
same as every day
trees waving arms
lake rippling
feet dragging
mind full.

Perhaps I shouldn’t’ve lost my temper
last night in bed—
reading was no crime
I should’ve obliged
turning over 
not turning off.

Perhaps I could make it up tonight
a nice dinner
spaghetti and meatballs
swimming in starchy sauce
I’d pick a lamp as well
to liven our abode.

Perhaps I should lighten up more
take it easy,
yell less; listen often
“how was your day?
pray tell, honey”
for I care what I hear.

Perhaps I too should get a book
keep occupied
and read together
as Ted and wife
world knowing poet
wannabe aide.

I walked down the path
just as every day
feet dragging
mind full—
eyes blind,
ears dumb.