Saturday’s Child: a curtal sonnet

This morning, when I rose from bed, the street
was all abustle with the weekend’s chores.
Fresh coffee brewed, I filled my favorite mug
and sipping slowly, found the flavor sweet.

The cat was chasing lizards ’round the floor;
I shook my head and gave my wife a hug.
Outside, the sounds of lawn and garden tools
and stereos blended in a dull roar;

I shuffled, still half sleeping, ‘cross the rug,
whispered silent curses at these fools
and shrugged.

10 APR 2004

Please follow and like us:
Pin Share

Share This:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.