Routine (an acrostic poem)

Reaching for her car keys, Delilah headed out the door

Outside she got into her car and pulled out of her driveway

Under the slate-gray sky she drove through traffic to get to work

There she punched the time clock and began her shift

In her breaks, she chatted with the same people and told the same jokes

Never did it dawn on her on her way home that she should do something different

Every day might have been the same, but that’s what she so loved about it

 

Image: assets.propublica.org/legacy/images/ngen/gypsy_image_630/_threeTwo800w/loop630_1.jpg