With plenty of spray,
Two parts grossed out,
One part just trotting along.
With plenty of sun,
Companions out for a walk
Sniffing all the smells.
On fat tires and potholed roads,
More of a fitness test
Than recreational endeavor.
Where there was time for napping,
Nascar, and golf,
Plus plenty of joking,
All there to fight off Monday…
So many songs,
Filling the air around my brain
With musical memories
Serving to sooth the anxieties of the day.
Not that there are any,
Only the ones I conjures
In the silence of detrimental thoughts,
The absence of easy going.
It’s the music,
The patter of running feet,
The sounds of leaves falling,
The guffaws around a coffee meeting table.
They all play well on the nerves,
Keeping the darkness at bay,
Letting notes massage an attitude
To keep the day light.
Another work day ahead,
But such a beautiful moon,
Makes work far off
Colds not so bad,
Hollow rocks making things hurt
Daylight brings work pain
The day has ended
A long Monday it was
I’m guessing my one student
Asked if there was sugar
In every item on the McDonald’s menu
The questions were rapid fire and way off topic
But his way of understanding
Just couldn’t be slowed
All might have been fine
Had his -ose questions not been
Supplemented by penny gallery comments
From other students
About X-boxes and dogs burying tennis balls.
I left there
Certain of impending mayhem
Instead the next class offered a scholarly
Curve ball thrown by students
Ready to develop research questions
On culture in sports
Two students were even
Contemplating a thesis
That baseball is a pathway to God
It all ended with the next period when the madness
I had envisioned before arose
The classroom conversation was
Nothing like the prior stimulation
And disappointingly not about the skeletal system.
The class received a permanent seating arrangement
For their vocal dexterity
This Monday did more
Than make me thirsty
It shook every nerve
And emptied my soul of patience
For what is looking like a long week
No, I will go to sleep early
Resting with Ronald McDonald sugar plum fairies,
Visions of God and Billy Martin
Arguing over assigned seats,
And the knowledge that tomorrow is not