I’ve been meaning to share this lighthearted little poem by Yorkshire poet, songwriter and singer Liam Wilkinson for some time,, and even though it’s called “Sunday” I’m making it this week’s contribution to Saturday’s poem.
Sunday
I.
Sunday is made of crisp paper
and coffee
so I’m happy to be here
out in the world
carrying the news
home
and savoring
the Americano on my tongue.
II.
The shop assistant
had no idea
how much I loved her today.
Or how much
I loved the gorgeous line
of fresh orange juice
in the fridge
and the low low price
of economy cat litter.
III.
The stillness of the seventh day
is only beautiful in things
as it happens.
sad
to think Monday
will soon be here
in the tears
of tomorrow’s frozen vegetables.
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