Mikko Paartola/Vastavalo

JOURNAL

Once a Day

I wake up on warm, smooth, wave-worn rock near the water’s edge. The sun is setting.

Once a day I’m asleep; once a day I wake up. Once a day I’m sad. Once a day I long to see my daughters’ faces. 

Once a day I make love to my husband, and I fight with him once a day.

I don’t know how to write just once a day.

Anja Snellman