Words slip away as boxes loom
Cardboard and tape in every room
Nervous energy robs my sleep
Moving day is coming
I should be outlining my next plot
But inspiration finds me – NOT
I’ve got writing quotas to keep
But moving day is coming
Rental contracts, closing date
Change of address, change my fate
So much to do that I could weep
But moving day is coming
It’s not a block that halts my pen
Or keeps me from my writing den
Rugs to vacuum, rooms to sweep
Moving day is coming
In thirty days, I hope it’s true
My mind will turn to point of view
And then, I swear, I’ll write most deep
But moving day is coming
