this was to be her sanity,
or at least evidence,
that her efforts were
There would be no
"Good job, Brownie" for her.
Chores broken down
by hour, day, week, month.
the date for Christmas shopping
had been planned.
Errand and shopping list
were always tucked in her purse.
Sandbags piled on the river's edge.
Only after being shored and prepared
could come coffee, journal and pen.
That was the problem.
Ink does not bow to a schedule.
Breath and blood and madness flow,
Forgotten lists and agendas drowned,
but life pounded inside her
The prompt for the day was routine.