Cards

by g emil reutter

street lights stand guard
above salted sidewalks
sun rises, sheaths of ice
fall from bent tree limbs

heater rumbles, coffee pot
steams, gurgles, oatmeal
pops in microwave

closet doors slide open, closed
cars engines rattle in parking lot
trash truck lifts dumpster
bags thud like hail in an
ice storm

it is Thursday, like any other in
any week of any year. some may
say it is nothing special, this Thursday,
glib and routine

 unless of course you are not
 around to hear the sounds, smell
the coffee, taste the oatmeal and
live the life dealt to you.