Gillian's Ballade

This morning when the sun was new,
I rose, and never felt inclined
to entertain the thought of you;
and as I sipped my daily grind
and gently raised the window blind,
those memories were kept at bay.
Although it seems a bit unkind,
I did not think of you today.

This afternoon when skies were blue,
you were the furthest from my mind
for all the work I’d yet to do,
for tightening the cords that bind;
and later, while I sat and dined,
your mere existence held no sway-
it summoned me, but I declined.
I did not think of you today.

Tonight when dusky shadows grew,
reflection made the day rewind
so I could draw a fair review,
and this, my dear, I’ve come to find:
I never broke, I never pined;
tomorrow, though, perhaps I may
be hemmed by grief before, behind.
I did not think of you today.