Monday Morning

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 Monday Morning


And now comes the quiet
hymn of morning birds,
boiling water, the plaintive 
cat who wants in from her hunt.
Here, in the mess of the weekend.
Here, on the precipice of the week.
A mesquito-eater lights on the ceiling.
A jumping spider rests on the wall.
In the garden, the king snake stretches
out from her coil. All of us put on as our uniform
the same question— what, out of everything,
will happen next?

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