Crash And Burn

 Some mornings arrive heavy

When sleep comes in dribs and drabs

Before the day even begins

I wake up tired…

Ready for bed…

 

This is one of those mornings where

I fold myself into the couch,

Mindlessly scrolling

Sad and overwhelmed

 

The kitchen is a silent accusation

Dishes tetrised in the sink,

stacked like unfinished thoughts

Trash not taken out

Clutter from yesterday’s food prep

Sitting where it started.

 

This is my crash day

My burn day.

The day before felt like another life.

A morning walk through the desert,

Light steps on the sand,

Friends dropping by,

Laughter flowing naturally

And nested in every nook and cranny

Love

Easy and unforced.

 

Then evening settled gently—

Birds lingering at the feeder

Me reflecting on a wonderful day

Feeling loved

Feeling deserving

 

My crash days

They just happen.

Rhythmically

High tide, low tide.

 

On those days

When I have to face the world

I slip on a mask

I’ve had over a half century of

perfecting this mask

It is as easy as slipping on a favorite hat.

 

This morning

My crash and burn day

I sit in my small garden,

wrapped in the stillness,

watching hummingbirds

hover and dart and squabble

The sun peeks above the trees,

Slow and certain,

Like it always does,

Like it always will.

And there, in that quiet, I remember—

Every day feels a little fragile

But they are a gift

 

Even the slow ones,

Even the heavy ones

Even the ones where I crash and burn.

 

On my crash days

I will gather myself, gently,

Not all at once—

Just enough to stand,

To clear a kitchen counter,

To put away the clutter,

I will sweep mindfully

I will meditate,

I will breathe in stillness,

I will exhale the absolute panic,

 

Then, tentatively step by small step,

I go forward

Not chasing the day,

Just trying to stay open to it

© 2026 Pepper Richardson . All rights reserved.  Please do not reproduce without permission.