This is the first of many poems that I have written post college. My college days were full of many events that took up much of my time. The years I spent there taxed my mental and physical capabilities. I survived. And now I am a winemaker. My first few poems related to my new life rather than my complex feelings. They may not be as easy to relate to, but they still express a part of me. Enjoy.
The harvest ended
two weeks ago. But I, still,
cannot find the time
to enjoy an outside life. I find
my work has been brought home with me
on my desk and in my mind.
Not because it’s mandatory,
but because it is my passion.
The work I do is small,
The tasks I complete are laborious,
If for every year, until my death,
I came home exhausted
to a loving family and a warm bed,
I could always manage just another day.
Whether the first or last day,
I would be thankful
for the opportunity to be of significance,
and for the end of the day.