Even the house can feel
the simmering approach
of another week.

I walk early,
stuffing one ear with stories
and leaving the other open
for birdsong.
The tops of the trees
knock together in the wind.

The morning fades
into thumps and piles
of laundry.
We give equal attention
to the couch and the dishes,
with mild motivation.
I make grocery lists
to confirm all that
can wait
another day.

The cavern of the afternoon
is accented
with sullen homework inquiries
and the festering drip of the faucet.

We are all trying to do
as much of nothing
as possible,
while still
being productive.

And eventually,
the savory evening
succumbs to the light.

~ Megan M. Codera

One thought on “Sunday

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