She picked up her pen,
Picked up her pen,
Twirled it around,
Tapped,
Tapped a little rhythm,
Looked at the clock,
And thought of coffee.

She sat at her desk,
Sat at her desk,
Sipped her coffee,
Hummed,
Hummed a catchy tune,
Smiled a bit,
And thought of yesterday.

She pulled out her phone,
Opened her phone,
Clicked and scrolled,
Checked,
Checked her messages,
Muttered quietly,
Fired off a quick reply.

She noticed a cobweb,
Noticed its dangling grey,
Like clinging tendrils,
Frowned,
Frowned at its intrusion,
Collected a broom,
And swept it from the wall.

She glanced at the clock,
The slow ticking clock,
Hands moving on and on,
Sighed,
Sighed at the passing of time,
Picked up her pen,
And wrote the date.

She considered the date,
Considered tomorrow’s date,
Half remembered,
Wondered,
Looked for her diary,
Thumbed through its pages,
Confirmed her plans.

The pen in her…