Enough. I‘ve worked, struggled,
tried to perfect, come close,
lacking some. But that’s it.
Anything more is smearing the paint,
too much salt, spoiling the brew.
I‘ll stop now. It would be good
to meditate, to exercise, to pamper me.
But that’s too strenuous, too much work.
I‘ll vege out, play mindless games,
stare at the sky, frolic with the dog.
Time out. It heals the soul, the body, the mind.