Get Your Premium Membership

Saturday

It is the beginning of another week of Mondays And I am trapped in this time zone. Saturday's are a far off place, and Sundays are light years away. It is a time of dark mornings, and even darker nights. There is no escape. Every fiber of my being is crying out for freedom and sunshine. The smell of apple blossoms in the spring, and the smoke from leaves burning in the fall. And if Saturday came tomorrow........ then I fear it came too late. Lynn Barany

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs