Mondays are just young Fridays

One day to the next, Monday
and the rest, week after week
after week, the months begin
to slide together. One goes,
another soon gone, we’ve been
at this thing for far too long.
Have things improved?
Is an end in sight? Do we even
dream night after night? Or
is it still the same as it was?
Has it been four or five months
of knowing less than we did
and not as much as we should?
Have we dealt with it reasonably,
or did we just do what we could?

07/27/2020                                             j.g.l.

 

 

 

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