What are Days for?

Days are where we live:

Days are wicked

Days are cool

Days are lots of fun.

 

Monday Tuesday Wednesday

Days trip off your tongue,

Thursday Friday Saturday

Days speak for themselves.

 

Sunday, Lord of days

Maintains a merry ship

Afloat on a sea of surprises.

Days are like treasure hunts.

 

They make you dance,

They make you cry;

Some day we will all die.

 

Where would we be without days?

 

(Inspired after reading Days by Philip Larkin, from The Whitsun Weddings)

 

This poem is from Upon the Inward Eye. My next collection is provisionally titled, “A Quickening Love.”

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Filed under Philosophy, Poetry, Thoughts

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