some days are like that

I rearrange some furniture.
a chair,
a lamp, a vase.

I go the shelves
to the books, pulling some out,
putting new ones
in.

I discuss the weather with a neighbor.
we both
look up to the sky
saying little that will
change
anything.

I put a pot of coffee on.
make the bed.
carry laundry into the basement.

I take a bath.
I stare into my phone for a minute
or two,

then click it off.

there's still a lot of day light
left.

some days are like that.