The observation for the 8th January was, essentially, the very trivial observation that I had observed nothing to write about. Somehow, I've managed to get a whole poem out of the idea - not perhaps one of my best, but not too bad either.
What The Day Had To Be
Nothing has happened.
The day has been slow.
I’ve had little to do
and nowhere to go,
made no observations,
seen nothing that’s new.
Nothing important
has entered my view.
Here in my armchair
just before bed,
I turn the day over
once again in my head,
seeking significance
to any event,
I examine each moment
to find what it meant.
And then it occurs
that the meaning may be
that the day has just been
what the day had to be.
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