On Monday

It’s here and it’s tender

like new grass

and I’m almost afraid

to touch it but I want

to lie down and sink deeply

into a cool dark rest

away from the bold sun

and strong words

of people pushing into the week

like freight trains, dirty and unnecessary

and almost always forgettable

in their sameness.

I’d like to hum and watch the sky

and feel my edges drift away.

One thought on “On Monday

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