Here is my poem for last week’s prompt, Time:
The Distance of a Day
is never the same measure.
The span of just one morning
can overtake an entire week.
Each time the plumbing works
and the family goes off safely,
things are on a seamless course
toward another pleasant evening.
Then one day the basement floods
and no one gets up on time,
an eternity of decisions must
cascade and bounce to order.
With all the days spent flowing,
or trying to restore,
nothing will out-span the days
that focus on the laughter.
The distance of a day
may not have the same measure,
but the unit should always be
the joyful memories.

Measured in units of joy. ❤️
I like your poem.
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Thanks for the encouragement. This one was fun to write.
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