It’s hard for her to catch my attention,

from the fingerprint smeared screen.

Scrolling

reel after reel.

A pen lies on the table.

She hopes I’ll notice,

and jot down the idea swirling in my mind.

I notice the dirty dishes piled up in the sink,

and on the counter.

I start to load the dishwasher.

The creative thought pops back in.

My screen lights up with the latest YouTube video.

I touch it,

and watch as the phone sits

precariously

leaning on the windowsill

above the dishwasher, as I unload it.

Light streams in through the kitchen window.

It’s beautiful.

Perfect light for a poetic pause.

My muse is hopeful.

I grab my phone to take a photo,

and open notes to jot down a few words

in the magical light.

That idea about to take shape.

A friend messages and I notice.

I respond.

“So close!” she thinks.

Maybe tonight.

The dog makes a faint sound,

while stretching.

The sound reminds me of the present moment.

The idea – faint – barely tethered,

there. In my mind.

She’s waving her hands at me.

I wake up, remembering my vivid dream.

Intense.

The creative idea still swirling close by,

only just.

I reach for my phone,

on the bedside table to make note.

Instagram notifications alight.

I can’t resist.

She sighs.

Feels defeated.

The creative idea spinning

above me,

rising into the ethos.

She will try again.

She’s always does.

Patiently,

trying to get my attention.