What’s a Sunday


What are Sundays for
If not morning-misted coffee
Runs walking sleepily
In sweats down the street


What good are they
If not folded into one another
Like the batter of our
Long-gone breakfast pancakes


Who needs Sundays
If there’s no lazily stretching for
Water after two hours
Rolling tangled in blankets


Really, what is a Sunday
If not for spooling memories
To weave light into
Those non-Sunday occasions

One Comment Add yours

  1. lydiatweed says:

    Thank you for my comment on my post about Amsterdam! I accidentally posted it on my other blog as I’m still getting the hang of WordPress. I’ve just had a scroll through your posts and your writing style is so lovely, this one especially makes me feel so calm! Hope to read more soon 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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