I am subjected to the eternal repetition of days-

when I said I didn't like change, this is not what I meant.

I thrive on the busyness of routine,

the diversity in my waking ours.

But how does the sun rise and set

and I cannot differentiate what day of the week it is?

Change is getting older, 

people leaving,

moving away.

This is the change so many come to hate.

I appreciate a gray sky,

a dreary, foggy evening,

because when the sun comes, it is a gift from the higher power above.

Now,

I stare out at the same, sunny day-

and realize

maybe change isn't as awful as I had pictured.