Maybe the blues have been blown away - hard
to tell this early, but there’s a zephyr of change
in the air - even 5am early-bird flights sounded
different, were less grudging wake-up calls tho
there’s no denying its sign, you’ve another day
to attend to - and that is the irony; but this time
we’re aware of planned events, occurrences as
fixed things blended in a warp we’re wound in
fixed things blended in a warp we’re wound in
So in-bed cappuccino commences sequences
extending into late morning - the Kookaburras
are fed minced meat - Podge gets his chicken
chunkers while a bush turkey’s exorcised from
the gourd patch; mare Grace gnaws her apple
and batteries charged overnight are isolated
Three empty fuel cans are loaded onto th’ Ute
and a mob of books identified for library return -
the shopping list expands exponentially while
The Lady departs for a sojourn of minding the
grandkids - suddenly we’re near exhaustion &
there’s still so many hours ahead to attend to
Okay so we change the pace, bend a bit and
go with the flow - there’s no need flagellating
to routines which aren’t a race or a regimen -
tho it explains the lethargy hitherto amending
plans before we ever reached any execution
phase - but glad to say - today is different
© 3 May 2016, I. D. Carswell
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