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8:00 PM

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The hour of wrapping up today and organizing tomorrow.
The hour I plod through the remainder of my homework.
The hour t-shirts and socks slosh and spin in the washer.
The hour my Father watches the fate of the Cardinals inning by inning.
The hour my Mom reminds me yet again to pack up books and papers in my backpack.
The hour when day fades faster in the twilight sky and fireflies start to flicker.
The hour of clanking collar bling and thundering paw-pads,
as Callie and Gus run laps through the living room.
The routine hour drones on until,
a refecting pool is discovered on the hardwood,
and I am ordered to take the puppy outside.





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