Has come and gone
And I am here
Will the morning bring news
Of empty clothing
Strewn around the world
Of people taken in their prime
To live here no more?
I cannot know
Until my Sunday comes
Yet come it will
And I feel blessed
To have another day
To live
My novels whine for me
Tugging at my shorts
As I cook dinner this evening
My son still needs
A patchwork comforter
My daughter needs a hug
My work is yet unfinished
So I smile with relief
To see my ordinary self
Still sitting here
Well beyond the deadline set
For launching from this earth.
