Farewell to Poets

Staying awake all night.

Ready for bed with the morning light.

While others plan for Sunday,

A little swimming, a little play,

I will sleep, and dream, and probably snore.

Writing haibuns, please no more.

My head is blurry, my thoughts are weak

I have to, have to go to sleep.

Farewell, my fellow poets.

It’s been real; it’s been fun.

But, seriously, I’m done.