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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Tragedy · #2258428
We never know the day before, do we? The bluebird is the state bird of New York.
Under a bluebird sky

It was Monday the 10th

and time to get up,
pour the coffee,
put on clothes

to buy some groceries,
head off to school,
or go to work,

a warm and sticky day,
a stormy evening,
a hurricane dodged.

It was almost autumn
as the skies cleared up
and temperatures dropped.

It was Tuesday the 11th

and time to get up,
pour the coffee,
put on clothes

to buy some groceries,
head off to school,
or go to work

on a tranquil morning
under a bluebird sky,
a beautiful day had begun.

© Kåre Enga 2021 [178.226] (10.september.2021)

23 lines

Submitted to September 2021 "Shadows and Light Poetry Contest" Open in new Window.
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