on weekend anticipation.
the doors finally open out into the real world.
you're crunching down the gravel path, & you know you're free.
the key clicks into the ignition, the engine roars to life, & the car lurches forward.
toward home, toward comfort, toward that quiet kind of productivity
with whom only early saturday & sunday mornings are acquainted.
the first five, those called work, always have an unfailing ability
to take that steady confidence - that easy assurance - and remind it of its sure & certain place.
but the promise of the last two, those called weekend, is enough.
like a parent, ever-equipped with unconditional love,
the weekend greets you with open arms.
clickings of keyboard, rustlings of paper - silenced.
you sigh. you breathe. you think.