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.