A Day

By Jasmine Whittaker

Still tired,

Rose at dawn,

Cold shower threshing clamming skin and mired mind,

To table cluttered with paper torn,

From legal pads and order form,

To conference call and jibber jabber,

With bankers on weighty matter,

Then hammer home on bony tips,

Of fingers on keyboard skips,

Another day another dollar,

Then back to bed till morning’s holler.

We went on a walk

Amid the trees

The midday sun hung fat and bright above the leaves

And we were happy

To breathe some air

That was not between walls

And below a roof

Up and down the hilled path we went

Weaving through the wood

Our laughter like a stream’s chatter

And we were happy