Tribute to Monday

You’re the day beneath dark folds of eternity,

the annihilation of the weekend.

Move through the hangover.

Pull up bootstraps reluctant to budge.

You’re the awakening one resistant eye at a time

of alarm clocks,

tight schedules,

meals eaten in distraction.

You’re the beginning of an Everest climb

to a faraway Saturday,

the workday holidays try to obliterate,

a day without weddings or picnics.

You’re the day starting with mmm,

but you’re not good to eat.

Still you stand as a buttress

in the midst of aversion

at the head of the week,

able to bench press six other days,

wings spread for takeoff

up through the trees.

First published in Backchannels Journal January 14, 2020