Midnight Saturday morning
Oh man, week’s end at last
sitting here at table’s head
wine in hand, still focusing,
following through I guess
ready for weekend’s reprieve.
On and on these weeks go
as I default to daily oblivion
to join yours and theirs —
I am with you, so not so alone.
So what? So what are we
anyway? Question marks are the
best punctuation these days.
Clyde Long
Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond 