Life is getting better, really.  But, for right now, this also means that bad days can really interrupt my plans and throw me for a loop.  And there have been several of those lately.  That, one top of some other family drama, have meant that I didn’t participate in this weeks Poetry Party.  Check it out, there are some great entries.  Instead, here’s this…

Bad has too many flavors, ones
like the biting after-taste of tiredness,
or the spicy hot of pain,
or the thicker-than-milk coating of lethargy,
that linger through the days that follow.
There are the days
marked by the memories’ rusty grit
or tainted by the acid of future uncertainty.
There are the hard days,
brittle like uncooked pasta,
when routine becomes onerous
or so simple it’s forgotten
and thus makes itself more starkly singular–
an old spice long unused.
There are so many bad days,
blending and overlapping,
into meals, banquets,
and smaller snacks,
always new and all too familiar.

written 9-10-08

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