88 Words

We arrive here improvised. [Szymborska]

Schedules persist whether we mind them or not. Thursday waits for no one. On a Wednesday two boys were born. Today was Wednesday, but the world lost a quiet poet. She survived more than her share. Sometimes one wonders if Saturday will ever come again. Or if Monday doesn't end soon, will all the artists stay home to save their cats from empty apartments. As it is, I'd rather be stunned by Sunday's silence: hear that? No, it was nothing, only one more minute clicking away.Tomorrow. Already.