Saturday
Why is the Saturday Sun so different from the rest of the suns? More beautiful, shimmering on the frozen land; more loathsome in my eyes, piercing cotton and down. A silent invader of many a depressed mind, the Saturday Sun explodes with violent directness refusing to be ignored or forgotten. Monday Sun only dreams of being as distinguished. But alas, Monday will never be the welcomed Sun. Is the Saturday Sun truly so different from all the others? Perhaps the only change is that we finally have time to look.
1 comment:
love this wondering/noticing, coley. i've definitely felt the same way at times... but what's even sweeter than sun on a saturday is sun on a tuesday afternoon when there is nothing to do but be outside. at least, that's what i think. and who knows if that's worth anything! ;)
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