Cafe Del Soul

Weekends and Loose Ends
By Laura Cavanagh -- Contributing Poet -- [Email This Item]

It was Saturday morning
when he told me that he was leaving
and its always sad to see someone go.
Especially on a weekend.
Weekdays are not so bad,
the world is ready to take your hand,
and give you Assam tea and those funny biscuits,
and make you feel that your life could be filled,
with one-word-at-a-time thinking.
Weekends are worse.
Weekends empty out around me,
they force me to think to where I'm going,
the drill me with holes, where have I been?
They are filled with longing,
They are broken children,
convulsively crying,
for what I could have been.

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