Sunday / Poetry

Sunday

Train rumbles
Something clatters
Cars shush 
Someone lost
And someone won
I play Mozart

Sunday
 
Red wine
Flat space
Love here and
Energy gone
Adieu
Here is still

Sunday

Rains
In little clumps
My book saved
Head on my lap
Soon, he says
Soon, I say

Sunday

Leave and arrive
You leave and
I leave 
And we both want to
Arrive
Before Tuesday
Alas 

Sunday

Sits with me
The dog too
And the quiet air
In corners
And shadows
Intermittent 

Sunday