all this space

from evy's notebook

All this space!
From this place
go my friends
this weekend
of respite.
And I might
do some tasks
that at last
I can do;
maybe brew
cups of tea,
sweep debris,
or I may
lounge and lay
in a trance,
I could dance
in the nude,
eat junk food.
But perhaps
all these naps
make me sad.
Is it bad
to be bored?
I'm restored
to be here,
and this year
I'll embrace
all this space.

In the format of the poem A une Damoyselle malade.