“When will today be

yesterday’s news?”

you ask, thumbing

through the paper,

expecting me to

say “tomorrow.”

“As soon as someone

jumps off a bridge,

climbs in the wrong bed,

or wins the lottery,”

I reply

“this day will be gone.”

“Then surely,”

you conclude,

“it’s over before

the print’s dry.”

Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved

Independent content creator, ghostwriter, author https://tinyurl.com/y2cgqhgv mental health advocate, and poet. bridgetwebbber@outlook.com

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