They say humans are creatures of habit
but I think our regular reinvention is pretty spectacular
          mundane trials of life undo our comfortable routines
          death steals our loved ones
          age alters our bodily abilities
and we rewrite the script:
change out what was familiar
for what is now necessary.
          I walk past the house where my former family still lives
          I go days at a time without seeing my own children
          I sleep in the arms of someone who, like me, was sworn for life to another person
What does it mean
for something to feel normal?
Living is a story of same and different, all at once
the only habit waking each day
          and recognizing the sun on our face.

6/28/26