Ode to my Overwhelm
There are better things that I have written. Perhaps you will read them soon, but not today.
Yesterday
I was four years old
and I could only measure yesterdays by what was not today.
And yesterday could mean yesterday. last week. last month. last year.
or maybe yesterday just means most days
Like yesterday
I forgot my breath
Sixty-Six minutes spent sitting in traffic
Six hours spent on zoom
Five hundred ninety-nine emails
spreadsheet after spreadsheet
Caught up.
Yesterday I could not remember
the rhythm of my chest rising and falling
Yesterday the sun was there but I did not go out to see it
Missed its rising and setting.
Like yesterday I cannot be sure I was alive
and these yesterdays are most days
and I am tired.