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Your alarm clock went off -
Like any other work day.
And you rose to meet the challenges
In your own way.
The minutes started ticking,
And your schedule was clicking...
You can get through any workday morning-
With your simple routine you know by rote-
Except for today,
When the whole morning choked.
The shoelace on your left shoe -
Snapped in half when it was almost tied.
And that meant another entire outfit!
Damn! Now the time seems to fly!
You stopped at the store
For your usual morning fare,
And you misplaced your keys -
Where ARE they, where!??
And if that wasn't enough already,
Now your are going to be seriously late,
You miss every green light,
Just in time to stare at the stop light's red glare.
You blood pressure rises,
And you fingers drum the beat of impatience
As you clench your steering wheel -
What more could go wrong?
You dared to wonder out loud,
As you made your last right turn.
And there before you,
Lays the remains of a wreck
That makes your stomach knot up tight,
The steam rises, and your hear sirens close by.
You slow down and glimpse their despair;
The despair and wreckage that could have been yours,
If your morning went as it should have, and could have.
So who do you thank, for making you late?
A shoe lace, lost keys, the stop lights red glare -
Or do you thank the God of Luck, a Heavenly Father Devine,
Or a wrinkle in the continuum of time?
Deborah Coss of 1kinthing.com, writes about the things she knows, and sometimes takes flights into fantasy. A published writer, photographer and artist, considers herself a Jill Of All Trades, with a background in law, medicine and many menial labor type jobs. Language is fun. Communication is an art.
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