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.