The Remainder of the Day
The day is releasing its last breath of life,
giving up the sun-ghost of eons past,
while I sit on my patio with my stack
of medical books—
in front of me,
my husband and daughter playing blocks inside
for him to trip or step on later.
I watch them through the window—
the amber lamplight a contrast to the
lavender and periwinkle
The window frames this little world
that I have stepped outside of
so that I can do what I must do
to hold it all together.