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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Finding the Day

What will I do tomorrow?
This day is full,
peeling potatoes,
paying the bills.
I watch the sky
falling through the window
with the advancing colors of fall,
but there’s only a moment
to appreciate the display.
Life’s work demands my attention.
No time to sing a favorite tune.
Like a sailboat
to go past its jetty
and bounce for a time
on the outward waves.

Tomorrow is different.
Free to what passes by.
A track that runs
through the woods and fields.
A sip of new cider.
Reading about white winter
on the slopes in a few weeks.
Taking a walk
and listening to the football
and soccer games being played.
It’s a gift to understand time.
Of using life and flying kites.
Of letting things happen,
and following
the compass of the sun.
Of laying my head
next to Mary when I retire,
and say at day’s end.
Well done.

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