Missed running this morning,
No big deal, I’ll get it during the football games.
I could have been out in the dark with my mates,
Slogging along, laughing, sharing the stories of our lives,
Instead, I slept in.

There was no light in my room,
Clouds blocking the morning sun, rain is coming,
Just about the time the football games start,
Really though, I have been given a gift with the dull light,
A rare day to just putter around.

Everyone is gone, it’s just my trusty pit bull, Einstein and me with
Some twigs and blueberries for breakfast, coffee, and a paper,
Not a real newspaper, the digital variety that’s serving it’s purpose,
The lights are off in my dining room, and Diana Krall radio is playing.
I’ve turned into my grandfather, without the cigarettes and stuff.

He used to sit at the table
Wandering inside his head with his brilliance, demons, and fog
And I’d sit there with him with pancakes or Cheerios
Wondering what was in store for the day,
Maybe a trip to the PX, maybe staying home, always dark and quiet.

All of these years later, I still feel comfortable with dark days,
Embracing their stillness, their ease, the slower pace.
Einstein is waiting, hoping lick the bowl,
I’m delaying putting lessons together for the week,
Maybe I won’t even run.

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