Trying, typing, trying

Couldn't find a way out today
or a reason to write
anything worth noting or
worthwhile, I just watched the sunrise
and slept and read in the afternoon
heat and then the sun set slowly
over pink hued Philadelphia
coating my room in thick soupy
darkness,

Whit ignored it all
except for the shade on
the porch and the food in
his bowl,

he sleeps soundly at my feet
retracing his steps,
ready to take them again
tomorrow
and I'll be there
trying to do the same.