My Loss

The hours slipped away today

And then before I knew it,

It got too late to go outside;

I guess I really blew it.

 

The benches by the river

Didn’t have my butt to warm them.

The ferries and the pigeons

Had nobody to inform them.

 

Of course, I wasn’t missed at all;

The loss was mine completely,

For when I’m sitting riverside,

I write my poems discreetly.