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Monday, February 25, 2013

365 Poems: What Week May Come

Day 56


Thanks to a poetry prompt from the One Single Impression blog, we pay tribute to the week's beginning -- Monday. Given Fort Wayne's looming winter weather advisory, something apocalyptic seemed apropos. Also: Thanks and apologies to Shakespeare, and, of course, Hamlet.

What Week May Come

Sunday night: To sleep,
perchance to dream
that Monday never comes.
What apocalypse
can come upon us
that lays waste the world
and the alarm? 
What meteor fall, what
blizzard rage, what 
strange revelation could
keep this week from
jerking us awake at an
ungodly hour, from
tedious commute,
unruly colleagues,
slow-moving time-clocks?
Ah, here's the rub,
for in the sleep of week, 
what dreams may come?
Best turn over, and turn out:
The undiscovered country
puzzles us all -- 
once again we wake,
pull on our boots, and just say,
good morning, Monday.

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