Just waking up

It was so simple, just waking up
to a day where life became dull and difficult.
There was the sun, the apartment, the refrigerator
all looked the same.
The running toilet trickling into the afternoon.
Youth or innocence or optimism, I'm not sure—something had peaked
tipped the scale the other way.
What was poetic became tragic.
What was holding-on became pathetic.
Shallow, all shallows
my length of life wading through shallows.
There was the sun, the days, the people
all there behind a gauzy layer of glass.
That day and days after
thankfully a pool in a moving river,
thankfully a lull in a moving cycle.
But how they seemed forever
how they seemed permanent,
how they clutched my identity each long day.