In Praise of Everyday

by Lise Day

‘What day is it?’ asked Pooh.
‘It’s today’ squeaked Piglet
‘My favourite day’ said Pooh
just an ordinary morning
when the mist
slouches through the kloof
loiters in the garden
mingling in wet buchu scent

just a little lunch
sweet basil picked fresh
baby tomatoes
cool white wine from
the vineyard in my road

just a quiet day
when the high drama
life’s frenzy
is safely trapped
between the covers
of my book

just a calm evening
as the sluggish stream
catches the last light
children’s voices distant
butterflies in the dusk


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