Intrusion

I kept thinking it was Monday. The things I had to do, I thought, when I woke fuzzy-brained— but then realized it was Sunday, so I dozed again for a while. Waking from the doze, again I thought it was Monday. All morning, whatever I was doing, Monday kept sticking itself into my head. All afternoon, least distraction brought it on, flipping the page on my brain's calender. No, I'd have to remind myself— Sunday. Waking from a late afternoon nap, there it was again. I suppose Monday will now insinuate itself throughout the evening. And then tomorrow, I'll have to do those things, and Monday will insist on its inviolate territory.

You have all day tomorrow, Monday! Why must you intrude?

Leave me at least a few unsullied hours.


( Sunday Verse )