Poetry {Another Day}


Another Day

I stir from my slumber,

Groggy from a night that did not let me rest

I should be doing something.

A sense of urgency.


Washing on the line.

I run.

Feet pain on gravelled ground

Ripping clothes,

pegs flying everywhere

A basket full of clothes,

largely dry, rest at my feet.


This definitely calls for tea

The basket beckons me

Sorting, ironing, putting away

No rest for the wicked.

Another day has begun.

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