Still I'm Sad

I tire of the day
that glares with
a surfeit of sunshine,
I wary of clouds
that stain my horizon,

The best ideas
are those
that bring you home
to where the table set
and messages await
your reply,

The worst notions
take you to
intersections
where the lights don't work,
gas stations and fast food joints
taunting you
from across the street
with their variations of
instant gas and pain.

I am tired of myself
thinking
so much
about matters
written on napkins
and register receipts.

What is done
has been paid before
and still
I'm sad.