The Days

Thank God it’s Friday
is the only prayer I know.

Saturday and Sunday are sister snakes,
the product of sex times two,

One joyous and wild after so long,
the second slow and sad

Like premonition of parting,
the little death.

Monday is the country
of a poet’s ex-lover.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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