is swallowed by the ordinary.”
I have always disregarded the day-to-day
as if it held no over-arch.
I have always discarded the mundane
like it had no narrative significance.
And I have always known
I was wrong.
He fell asleep on my chest for the dozenth time.
You walked behind me - you always peruse a little more slowly than I do.
It was the beginning of Fall,
the air was freshly chilled.
Yesterday was nothing special,
a rose garden,
Except that if every day from now
were like this one,
it would have all been worth it.