One Day

Sunrise.
Cat is sleeping
on the desk. Windows
are just starting to glow.
I am here, as usual, in my
chair waiting for something
new, something very old;
something that is both at once.
Fingers cold, nose tip warmer;
dishes done, dressed warmly;
an average morning except
it’s Christmas Eve, a day
that never feels like any other
and this year feels like failure,
feels like loss. Foolishness —
I am lucky as hell. It is
a mistake I don’t want to make
more than once. I sit patiently
waiting, waiting for something
to happen, waiting for shoes to drop
on my head. I wait all day.
Then I go to bed; cat still asleep,
cold hands, nose tip warmer,
dishes still done, waiting
on an illusion of completion
come Christmas Day,
which will be here soon
in the dark at night, after
sunset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T