Evening writing

Evening writing seems more difficult
as the days get longer,
instead of being in doors writing
I want to be out doors playing.

As I watch the stone pine limbs
blowing in the evening breeze
I want to get in my car and drive somewhere,
go out of the city and wait for darkness
so that I can look at the stars
and dream of other worlds
where the light pollution doesn't interfere
with star gazing.

So I walk to the front door,
pick up my car keys
and head for the car,
but then I remember
I'm waiting for a part,
I'm waiting for a switch
to fix my tail lights;
I have turn signals and break lights
so I can drive my car during the daylight hours,
but without taillights
I can't drive at night.

I'm stuck at home
until the part comes in
and the taillights are fixed.