Each day I start with a book
A yawn, a stretch, and I thump down the steps
Eager as each day before

A navy armchair and fluorescent desk lamp
Are the only friends of mine

Each day I start with a book
Switch on my lamp, find my page, and I’m lost in thickening daze
Just as each day before

I’m grateful for my friends; My armchair keeps my limbs at rest
As my lamp illuminates forgotten words

Each day I start with a book
But a week or so ago,
Something was not quite right
Perched on my chair, I switched on my lamp
But something was off

“Now, not a moment’s more thought, time is ticking away” I say
So I crack open my book, and find my page
Eager as each day before

Each day I start with a book
But just the other morning,
Perched on my chair, I switch on my lamp, and squint at the page
I never had to squint before

But I was so far lost in the plot
I didn’t give it another thought

Each day I start with a book
But on this day, I notice my dimming lamp
Her light, reliably fluorescent white
Now shone dull yellow-gold
But I was intent on finishing my book
Eager as each day before



That was the last day I started with a book
I perched on my chair, and for hours I sat, eyes lazily scrolling forgotten words
I read late into the night

And I was just getting to the good part, when
everything went dark.