A day to listen.

[laynamarya]

Shh, listen. The day is gray and hushing.
Not gray like sadness
Gray like the kind Christine likes to wear.
Comfortable gray
Like sweatpants you can only wear at home
Because it is a certain kind of love
That lets you know
You can be a big slob
And your brother will still hug you
And your sister will still hold your hand.
And you can eat cold pancakes
And baked potatoes
And hot chocolate
And know
That there is safety
In laziness.
It is glory
In the ordinariness
Of watching dad fall asleep to commercials
And mom read magazines on the other couch.
And I'll sit back
In my slippers
And gray sweater
And watch
And listen.