A list or a poem or possibly both
A loem
a nonexistent word that seems perfect to describe this moment
acoustically and ethereally it brings to mind
a mixture that drains well
but holds nutrients
—
I returned from visiting my baby
and
in the refrigerator
there was moldy leftover rice
a soggy liquified cucumber
yogurt
and some spinach
I threw the rice and the cucumber away
sautéed some spinach and called it dinner
read my book
thanked God for safety
and spinach
then
slept
then
woke
I rode my bike
made a smoothie with the rest of the spinach
and the yogurt
the space now
empty
I went to work
got off at half past eight
shopped at nine
home at half past ten
unloaded the car
put the groceries away
fed the dog
opened the mail
looked at the clock
almost eleven
too late to cook anything
then just
ate a bowl of almost-stale Lucky Charms
climbed in bed
read my book
thanked God
for Lucky Charms
and for my children
and my grandchildren
and for safety
and breath
and friends
and faith
and dogs
and books
and work
and home
and memories
and for food tucked away in the kitchen
for another day
for hope
My prayer for this day, Lord, is this: let the trivial details drain away; let the gratitude and the hope remain. Use these to enrich the soil of my heart.