an inventory of a day that passed;

some whole days are simply needful endurances

dental appointments and grocery runs
banks and haircuts and overdue books
heaps of dishes
and too many crumbs on the floor

the mail piled up at the door

the bedtimes that bring no rest
and the list
of tomorrow’s chores that loom like thunder in the not-so-far-off distance.
should I even go to sleep?

the storm is coming…

 

you’d think I’d be too busy to notice
but I notice.
don’t you?

 

the ache?
the wonder?
when will it break?

 

music conforms to the mundane
and song slips into silence

and poetry leaves me

 

quietly

 

(but there is something in me still).

 

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