Few, same things
I do each day
Snooze the alarm,
look at the phone,
scroll through the dead of a page
Morning turns noon,
noon blushes into eve,
hours pass through the day unheaved
Boil water for a cuppa,
dip a teabag just the right amount of time
no more, no less
Sunrise, majestic as always
If only I were on a mountain
or a beach to appreciate
Walk through the door, check the mail,
wave to the neighbour
if I really need
Each moment giving way to the next
Hurried, unhurried,
felt left, left unfelt
Look for the matching sock,
keys and glasses
where I didn't leave them
June follows May
May may not precede April
come what may
Drive through suburbs
reach where I need,
on time or a little late
Monday to Friday,
Friday to Monday
passed off in a haze
Punch keys,
smile perfunctory smiles,
wait for another cuppa yet
Anniversaries of independence, wars and ceasefires
and my cat's birthday
coming up this weekend
Meaningful nudging mundane,
Profound worn out by prosaic
yet again
yet another day
that won't go down
in the pages of anything
Few, same things
I do each day
without really doing them
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