Stolen Monday

Mondays loom heavy on Sunday nights and invite a panoply of wide ranged feelings.  Dread mixed with duty; resignation blended with responsibility;  rebellion matched by determination.  For some, there may be enthusiasm. Hooray for them! I have known that in the past, and I have known the opposite.  Either way, its fine fodder for writing.

This was written in 2010.

A stolen Monday by dint of the white lie

Up all night I say sounding wan and done in
I won’t be in today
And now, the only thing I miss
about the office is the warmth
as I sit in several layers blowing on my hands
Fasting today, having cleansing on my mind,
soothing my spirit, gathering my old self
Wherever it has scurried away to.
Create, smile, sip tea
ignore the scent of morning toast,
the imagined sound of crunching, tooth to jaw
Tomorrow is another day
there will be toast then
Today is myself manufactured
anything today
Apply for jobs,
Write, draw
Organize, communicate with friends
take a long walk
feel the day
Mondays can be so nice