It’s the weekend…end of the week beginning of the week
long and short of it makes no sense beginnings or endings
they all fall into neat little boxes with a top and a bottom
a piece of cloud like fluff inside gently placed
each emotion carefully tucked in, the corners soundly folded under
the top placed firmly, with familiarity; a silk ribbon tied securely
sailors knot…loose lips sink ships
thoughts wander off to old sayings, expressions I never understood
yet, they hold their space for another moment, maybe laughter or joy
a ribbon without meaning or symbolic of any cause
a ribbon without a color coded sense of design

It’s the weekend there is live music and poetry slams
all of which seem to have lost some of their luster for me
a shinny bobble dimming as the waves crash against my feet
walking the shoreline feels like an abandonment of my physiological progression
walking the shoreline feels like I’ve jumped ship and could care less
– about the chill in the Atlantic
gray days, rain seems endless, sad thoughts and gloom push the envelope
into a the lost not found folder on some unknown postal workers desk
as if the intention was to be categorized, sorted or kept

It’s the weekend…end of the week beginning of the week

©2017 TrilbyYates