some days come for you so quickly
they pull the steam from the coffee. they snap
each & every nail. they trip your careful feet
as you patter into morning. into the muchness. into
the endless lineage of try being asked of you.
some days are born out of meter. some out of
meteor. & some are a quiet ticking we mistake
for the rain that keeps us in bed a few seconds more,
as we trace the still jaw sleeping beside us, & feel the
gentle blue pull of thanks rise up
for one more day, here,
to love at our
own pace.
