Monday, December 30, 2013

Monday as Saturday

Today I am newly grateful for regular things made larger by their regularity:  my beloved and daughter are asleep upstairs, the trappings of Christmas are still in place.  The regular Saturday after Christmas was cracked open, and now it has appeared on Monday.  I sit in my writing chair, coffee in hand.  I am thankful.

It feels like the Saturday
We didn’t have last week.
I sit in the chair
In front of the Christmas tree,
The stone crèche
Beside it.
In our crèche
The wise folk
Have already arrived,
The sun shines full
Through the window
Best of all
The whole rest of the family
Sleeps sound
The daughter will  come downstairs,
Complain again
We did not pick up the house
After Christmas.
I will probably laugh.
It feels like Saturday
Normal Saturday
Except instead
It is the beginning
Of a potential week
Of Saturdays.
The tree and crèche will stay up
All week.

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