Weekends wait impatiently
amid discomfited minds the
blue and white collar
collectively seeking escape
suppressing the sight
of a bright summer day
rather
focused on filing or
calling a customer who
cant be reached
Monday morning awakes
the weekend dim and distant
as we lament the
awaiting haze of days
cursing the curt end
to a possessed past
smacked by the sudden
present reality of
performance driven domains
straining our evolution
for solutions in our
socially accepted slavery
Friday arrives reviving
the mantra (TGIF)
miles of smiles
finding us fitfully
fulfilling duties
father time slows bemused
in our crave for
just two days and then
the weekend begins
Tony, you capture so well the rhythm of the week and the oasis of the spirit we hope will be the weekend. I can certainly relate to this poem. My challenge is to find (or create) tiny weekends throughout the week. Thanks for sharing and creating.
