Sunday Poem by Stacey Knippenberg Ricci

Sunday



Sunday flew over me
Locking my feet to the ground
Absence of direction
Intention of connection
Allowing for all
Escaping from none
Dismissed but held
A hostage of the heart
Feeble and Frail
That cannot feel the urge
To move alone
Waiting for Monday sun
Routine freeing me
To a contented level
Of familiar discontent

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