By Linda L. Holland
when the blues knock out all your conviction
is the clink of a cup set to table,
slush of sweet tea poured from kettle to vessel,
creak of old wood as you sit in the chair,
and your hand. Your loyal hand knows how
to write essential tasks, order the day.
Remember to pick up butter, eggs, milk.
Make pumpkin muffins for Pat and Celeste.
Do breathing exercises 3x at least.
The ink scrolls out a rhythm, you see
there’s time enough to honor every moment
and it’s OK, for now, to go at it slow.
Today is who you have become, just this.
You survive. Quietly, you start to sing.
Linda L. Holland is a writer/musician. Her writing has been published in the Cortland Review, Clean Run, and the anthology An Even Dozen. Her music has won awards from ASCAP and has premiered at Carnegie and Wigmore Halls. Linda teaches at Santa Barbara City College. Also by this poet: "Alive" and "Blue"