Draft 2: Day Off

[TranquillityBase]

Again and in between when we converge,
the moment drifts into the distance with the crows,
cawing over breakfast litter in the parking lot
as white-hot time above begins to burn
away the morning dew. I make my bed
with only the necessary folds, let an hour pass
before drinking coffee to avoid an afternoon crash,
and scroll through social media. After an hour,
I rewatch a show through someone else's tears
and laughter while I sip the coffee cold. Then
when it's time to clean, I vacuum, water a prayer
into the rotting bonsai, do the laundry,
dust the furniture but forget the fan as it spins       I really like the poem up to here, reminds me a bit of Haruki Murikama, tho he's a novelist.
for another day, another day like a poem
of clichés, unseen by the lover addressed
and forgotten in the baseboard.                            

I didn't care for this ending.  Hard to explain what it is that is bugging me.  Maybe too poetic after the careful detail of the previous lines, too airy, too big a switch to a kind of long simile.  Thinking aloud here...