Everyday

February seems to be the unsupportable act,
you wait for things to happen; buds to break,
or the early death you always fretted,
and something mean, bohemian
lives in the water, under the skin of snowfall,
winnowing, you know sure there is
no other world where dry and warm are real…

With bigger, long-term projects in a holding pattern, I was feeling uninspired. So I gave myself the assignment to capture my daily pattern. Like it did for many people, the pandemic changed my pattern of life. And while I enjoy the perks of working from home, there can be a routineness to my days. So much so that days take on a mushy feel, one bleeding into another. The cat jumps into the window the same way each day, only the coffee cup changes, and I stare into my closet at color organized dresses that I never wear because I no longer get dressed to go to work.