Getting Through Is Most of What You Do

Memory betrays you
By saving the highlights,
The disasters, drama,

Skewing your sense of life,
So that, on a grey day,
With nothing much to do,

No social goings on,
It feels unusual
Or more unusual

Than it should, as if most
Of your experience
Wasn’t routine doldrums.

You sank through enough days
With nothing to commend
Or condemn them. This day,

Too, will sink below view
And you’ll survive it not
Recalling you did it.