About the rhythm of a Monday

You wake up and for a moment
You don't remember just who you are,
Or maybe where you're at,
Or maybe just something you don't want to.
Remember.
And then -- oh. yea.
A great gathering happens,
--It might take a minute--
And you roll
Out of bed and into your life.
Before you know you're cleansed,
Baptized for the day,
And in the car, and here's a half hour
Free for contemplation and horror
Eyes wide open to what lies ahead.
Just Monday, sure, sure, just
One more Monday in a life's calendar
Of Mondays and all they can bring, or not.
So you take those thirty minutes and
And sink into some Monday place
Where you mix one part anticipation
With three parts regret and
One part ennui. Shake and share.
But your cubicle neighbors have
Stirred their own cocktails and
Want you just to keep to yourself.
Which you do.

But we're a strong, resiliant, stubborn,
Foolishly optimism, terribly forgetful people, and
There's much to be said for
A cup of coffee and a smile.
If we're self-absorbed and
Uncommunicative at 8, by
Nine some of us are rediscovering
Civilization -- such as it is --
And by 10, we've managed to dress
Ourselves in more than clothes.
Here's who we need to be,
Here's the face we couldn't quite manage
Back there at 7. It takes longer, doesn't it,
For us to pull it together.

On Monday.