This is just another day.
My heart beats in the same way.
I wash my hair,
I think about you,
I sit on my bed and write.
Dawn is sluggish, the cat cries
outside my door and the dog
watches my every move because she
knows sooner or later I’ll remember
her. This is just another day.
The emptiness hits in a different way.
I wonder about you,
where you are, what you’re thinking,
if you remember me.
This is just another day.
The children stir, I will get up
and walk the dog and eat breakfast and
go to work. The paper boy will throw the
paper in a mudpuddle, or the car
will stall at a stop sign. The kids will
call from school to tell me they forgot books or
we’ll be out of bread so I won’t have
anything to fix for lunch. This is
just another day and somewhere
you are waking up and wondering
what to wear, hurrying because
you’re late or complaining because you’re
out of toothpaste.
This is just another day. Traffic
sweeps down the street in front of
my house, going somewhere.
The hinges on the bathroom door
squeak as the door opens.
The wood floor is cold under
my feet. This is just another day.
by Cher Bibler
