repetition (n).

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I am a creature of habit,
my morning this morning looked
like the morning before it, rising
with a whimper and shuffling
to the kitchen for the holy
coffee ritual – portioned with
the same spoon, I place the
same mug as I hum with the
sacred silver kettle.

I return often to the
same places, the bench in
the park where once we watched
a midnight bike parade, and returned
again after I finished my weekend shift
and again to read to each other
from the book I have read
already through, four times.

I echo often the same
songs that spoke to me
(I think maybe they were
written for me alone), these
songs I put on while I write,
or sit at home, or hurry
down to the bus stop.

I want to be in the habit of
finding new ways to
see the beauty in
even the quietest day.