An ordinary day.
February 22, 2015 § 7 Comments
It was an ordinary day.
A thin blue sky floated distant,
unlike a summer sky that hangs so low
you can reach up and poke it
with a stick.
***
It was an ordinary day.
The utility bill came—a little high.
The heater by our computers has run a lot.
A utility bill, a flier, and no bad news.
But then, bad news no longer
rides the slow horse of
a postage stamp.
***
It was an ordinary day.
My morning walk was cold,
but okay for this time of year.
I walked the last block backwards
staring up at that
unreachable sky.
***
It was an ordinary day.
We drove a winding canopy road
to visit a friend
with new replacement parts
in a heart still getting used to
the tuneup.
It was an ordinary day.
We visited our grandson via Skype.
He showed us the mutant aliens in his room,
promised they’d come
through the screen
and hide
under our sofa.
***
It was an ordinary day
that went out quietly.
I put the glass of water on the
windowsill by the bed.
The fire in the wood stove
burned down to embers.
Then we,
and the mutant aliens under the sofa
settled in for the night.
***
Lying in the dark I was grateful
it was an ordinary day.
when you reach a certain age, no news is good news and you expressed that thought so beautifully. right down to the mutant aliens.
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Clearly, you have never tried to life with mutant aliens.
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The ordinary seems to have become the extraordinary for me as well. Like you, I am grateful in the comfort of the ordinary. Beautiful, Adrian.
Karen
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I begin to understand so many things I found incomprehensible when I was young and looking at older people. What was it they so loved about the mundane? Why were they not running around attempting to leap tall buildings in a single bound?
I guess I’ve arrived on that quiet shore because I get it now.
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Lovely. And aren’t we grateful for full, ordinary days.
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There is a reasons we call something this special, poetry.
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This is going to be framed and given for gifts – the very essence of the thoughts included should be shared – not through our technology age, but hanging on the wall to be read and re-read. Thank you for the comfort of your words! As always, Debbie Moore
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