Hope for Dreary

I wrote a poem that I think most of us can relate to. Please read.

Hope for Dreary

I hear it before my eyes
Even open for the day.
The rain – coming down hard.
I have a vision now of buckets
So many buckets full of rain
Just dumping all its contents
On my roof only.

Already I want to stay
In my warm, dry bed
And not deal with the day.
Dreary, cold, wet, dark
Not good incentives to want
To jump out of bed and
Face the day.

But I can linger no longer
My clock says “times up!” and
I must move or call my work
and be “sick” today.
I chose to get moving and find
Much satisfaction in overcoming
the hold that was upon me.

Bathrobe, slippers, bathroom, kitchen
I stumble along like I need a breath test.
From one movement to another.
Fulfilling the primal needs
That all mornings require.
Ending with the most basic
And welcomed…coffee.

Sitting at the kitchen table
With a warm, comforting cup
Of caffeine and a donut.
Yes, I am up for the day
And I find that it’s okay.
There is hope for the dreary
After all.

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