It is Monday, January 9, 2017.

I am stating the obvious here.  The first sentence is how I would start my Monday morning chart in first grade, and then introduce something we would do or have a note about the weather.  It was a structure that held our days together and grounded us in our steps together that day.

Since I retired, it has become harder to remember what day of the month it is.  Days of the week aren't as obscure, because there are still markers for me, like church on Sunday, breakfast at Blueberries on Saturday, and Poetry Friday on...well, Friday.  The other days may mingle together, but my weekend days are pretty stable and anchor me throughout the rest of the week.

I've recently thought I might put a "morning message" on my refrigerator to help me set my day's schedule and thoughts.  I think I will go get that little white board I have stashed away and start writing the date, weather and what special thing I have planned for myself for later in the day!  That sounds like fun.

It is Monday, January 9, 2017.

 Days charted, months spent
Wielding words, numbers, skinned knees
Time once taut, relaxes.

Donna JT Smith
Poem 9 for 2017


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