Cycle of Days
by Bethany Lee
Last I knew,
It was Sunday when I closed my eyes,
Awakening to Monday yawns at dawn
Now its Thursday with Tuesday and Wednesday
Stacked upon each other - bunkbeds in between.
Glorious Friday with its inspiration,
Musing on the amassing of day-long after noon hours.
Saturday sees me coming and softly moans relief.
Sunday is a chance to stretch the rest;
squeeze the last of the sweet juice from the
Mess of pulp and rind that is the week.
No matter where in this cycle I am;
High or low blowing winds
I always have a chance to begin again
For no matter where I stand,
The day is always THIS day and no other.
Posted on 06/19/2008
Copyright © 2021 Bethany Lee
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 06/19/08 at 08:36 PM|
I like the message, the sandwiching of days is amusing, and I find myself laughing at how we humans divide up our lives into little bits of words.
|Posted by David R Spellman on 06/19/08 at 09:50 PM|
I liked Sunday: "squeeze the last of the sweet juice from the Mess of pulp and rind that is the week." And you're quite right "The day is always THIS day and no other." Let's make the best of it while we can!