“Saturdays, Sundays too”
Oct. 28th, 2018
Saturdays stay the same as they once did
Sundays too
But now they’re buried in burnt butts
With a tint of blue
Some say, “A tobaccoed hue”
They know where to find me
Buying peace
Through bottles and giving life the throttle
That ordinarily coddles some
As did their mother’s lullaby and teet
And her ‘song’
This one is hummed by the river
I’ll shiver, but listen
Hoping for the water to glisten that lunar moon
Now I’ll just sit and hear it croon