The descent of Tuesday


I meant to write yesterday

I did

But already,

The weight of my own expectations

has me spinning

a little,

Tilting in the winds of responsibility

like a small weathervane on the roof,

with the storm approaching.

Maybe it’s the quiet of the early morning,

the sound of the clock on the wall

ticking out my heartbeat.

Or the coffee-

A last, lonely rescued bag from China

of jasmine coffee

Far too full of creamer and flavour

to be anything other than bad for me.

I soak in the moment

Fragrance, sounds, silence

My breathing and heart rate slow,

Calm descends

For a moment,

I remember what peace feels like,

Exhaling expectations,

Inhaling joy