The clock keeps ticking
Time moves like a tide
Had a bad day
Would be switched by a walk on the bay.
The thought hit me
Evening it is, cooking it is
I trode to the kitchen
To start chopping the chicken
The rest that followed
Compiled set on the table.
I placed the utensils in the sink
My sight I snatched from the sink
Then turn around again
Caught a sight of a floating bowl
That rotates on its axis
Caused by the potential
Of the water that is so low
Leaving a trace of smile
On my face it plastered desire
Swings my mood
To happy from gloom.
****
❤ poetess
