little things

it’s the overdue phone bill
that slid underneath
the fridge
it’s the fuel light
that blinks when
you’re halfway to work
it’s the night worker
screaming down the
midnight road
when you’ve gotta get up
in the morning
it’s the crying baby
that won’t sleep
when you need it
more
it’s the egg shortage
when you want nothing
but an omelette

it’s the little things
thrown at you
over and over
that push you
to the edge
and when you’re ready
finally
to let go
the baby sleeps
through the night
the taxman overcharged
and sent some back
the hellish hot day
ends with a sunshower

and the miracle
sweet-talks you
off the edge
for a little while
until the next
little
thing