Today is Tuesday, week not halfway done.
My head lies on the kitchen countertop.
The sky is full of clouds. I see no sun.
The coffeemaker’s finished, no more drops.
The thoughts to get me through the muddled gray:
The biggest piece of jerky in the bag,
My child has made it safely through the fray,
A drink of water, wishing time would lag.
The little things I count to make it slow.
Appreciate the gifts so small and slight.
So layer thin the coats and shine the glow.
The rush to finish is the devil’s lie.
For days are like a big conveyor belt:
The same amount of time to all is dealt.