I’ll hear the rattling of my ceiling fan
and feel the golden, muted light as it filters through my old curtains,
not wanting to be awake at all.
when I open those curtains
that have been there every single day of my life,
I’ll ignore the mess they hid:
the terra cotta pot full of cactus mix soil
and a few old seeds,
which I left on the sill and knocked over
tonight when I drew the curtains.
I might look out to see how the sky looks,
whether there are any birds or squirrels in the hawthorn tree.
all those better habits I say I’ll get into:
working out, meditating, not hitting the snooze button—
I won’t do any of those.
I’ll take my vitamins & brush my teeth
& instead of rushing to catch up with the day like I normally would,
I’ll meet it when I meet it & just say:
thank you.
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