Gradually I extract my mind's
Entrapment by nighttime dreams
Embarking upon the daily chores
Of accomplishment void of screams.
Nay, not of audible sounds
Do I mention
But the inner voices of
My muscles' intention
Where once I imaged my feats
To improve both speed and grace
In some sports-type endeavor
Or competition in a race
Now I review the sequence of steps
For many a simple mundane task
To be able to complete and still
Conserve my energy, if you asked.
Nor do I contemplate coompletion
Shall excite any random praise
Or the crowd's roar for a champion
Will brighten my lonely days
Just rehearsing the routine that
Making bread does require
So no ingredients are missed
Thus wasting many an hour
To plan ahead what else to do
As I move from here to there and back
So I don't need to retrace my path
To fetch whatever item I lack
To schedule my options to watch TV
Or choosing a book to read
To remember to include besides food
The meds the doctor insists I need
So contemplating all I must do
Between dawn and the end of light
Takes at most twenty minutes --
But doing it? Perhaps I might.
©September 9, 2020 Mary E. Adair
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