Friday Changes
The forty-hour work week
kept same its firm streak,
but aging held a revealing
of different Friday feelings.
Beginning work at eighteen,
Monday became a wait thing,
a crawl to Friday night’s scene
when I was up for any
of mostly everything
with little sleep in between.
Even when newlywed, Friday
eve fun was weekend spread.
Then came baby, mortgage
a freedom shortage,
endless yardage, garbage,
cleaning and laundry bondage –
all with no rules or stoppage.
Friday lost all past flare
as my present life tone
shone it as a day for prayer:
that once I got home
I would be left alone
to merge in silence rare
with my reclining chair.
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