You may not even realize
as you step out of your
front door each morning
that you are not the 
same person you were
when you closed the door behind you
the night before

You are freshly washed
having sloughed off
the roughness of yesterday
ruminating on what’s to come
digesting buttered toast and orange juice

Or that was you, before…

What if you’ve now got nowhere to go
this morning

or any morning

what if the only incentive
to get out of bed is
the hug and the kiss 
from a little boy who wants help
pouring milk into his cereal bowl

Is it still a new day
when the only threshold you cross
is the one into your
fluorescent lit kitchen?

Even then, you are more than
you were the day before
you’ve read a chapter
solved a puzzle
listened to someone’s story
made a sandwich 
watched a movie
sung a song
laughed at a joke
cried from despair
said a prayer
and waited for the darkness to come again

Each salty tear
and sleepless hour
has made its mark

Even when you have nowhere to go
you can step outside
and stand in the sun
stronger
for having survived
another day

© Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso
May 2020