Some days, all you can do is keep slogging through.
That’s enough, you know, and valiant in its own way.
Anyone can skip in the sunshine, revel in the colors
of a sunset, join in the drama of a good storm.
It’s the ordinary days, when the color is drained,
and all that’s left to pull you forward is duty,
days where your true measure is made.
On such days, throw kisses to the gray sky anyway.
You’re breathing, after all, and surely that in itself
is a wonder, and a cause for awe and celebration.