Daily Adventure

My daughters would ask at the start of each summer day,
"What adventure are we having today, Daddy?"
Now, I begin each of my days slowly getting out of bed,
turning on a hall light or two so as not to stub a toe
in the early darkness that inhabits the house.
I go downstairs into the basement to write
these morning words in my office where the only sounds
are the running of the water softener and the clicking on
of a furnace that whirs slowly in its old age.
One daughter went east.  
One daughter went beyond the veil.
And the youngest daughter, boldly and unafraid, went west.
Each is on an adventure of their own making.