There are three days.
The day before.
The day.
The day after.
—
There are three days.
A day like any other day.
A day like no other day.
A day eternal, for ever and ever, world without end, Amen.
There are three days.
The day when people go about their own business.
The day when buildings fall down and fire flies up.
The day when all stop and stare to see an empty sky change.
There are three days.
The ordinary day.
The day something happens.
The day nothing moves, except the rocker, creaking, creaking.
—
There are three days.
The day of work.
The day of wishing for sleep.
The day of prayers.
There are three days.
A day of begging.
A day of denial.
A day of consent.
There are three days.
The day of sleep.
The day of praying for death.
The day of peace.
—
There are three days.
The day I am clean.
The day I become dirty.
The day I stand in water, too warm, too cold, nothing right.
There are three days.
The day of expecting.
The day of breaking.
The day to assess what broke.
There are three days.
A day I decide what to do with my life.
A day someone else decides what I will do.
A day I do nothing.
—
There are three days.
The day of lights.
The day of dark.
The day of dawn.
There are three days.
A day of white flowering bushes.
A day of waterglasses and sweat.
A day of hot tea and blankets.
There are three days.
The day that is remembered.
The day that is forgotten.
The day of forgetting.
—
There are always three days.
The day before.
The day.
The day after.
World without end, Amen.
Rosefire Rising 