Sabbath: A Poem from 2007

It's strange
gazing back
at
a full day
of
activity
and
feeling empty
and
enclosed
once again
as it
comes
to a
hasty
close

It's strange
staring away
an
empty day
of
deck chairs
and
soda pop
and
feeling full of
dreams and affection
as the sun
sets
in purples
and oranges

It's strange
how we
refuse
ourselves
the things
that fuel
us
and fuel
ourselves
with
the refuse
of a
life
frantically
lived.