If I put a lot
of thought
into it, it is
gone. On
to Sunday,
the bluesiest
of days (and
evening the
worst). But
if I skip the
focus, look
outward, no
interior rum
ination, a
swagger
might be
enticed out
of the hole
in the broken
jar, a kick in
step, so to speak.
Were there 8
days in one
week (or 9),
wouldn’t it be
nice to have a
couple of them?
Look out!
Don’t sink,
blighted week.
