The Sunday scaries
Is what they call it
Because of the alliteration
It doesn’t feel scary to me
As much as it feels
Forlorn
Sadness, not abject fear
Is the prevalent emotion
Maybe even a measure of regret
Mixed in
Rim the glass
With resolve
Or resignation
It makes the worst cocktail
I think it’s the gear shifting
Putting the thoughts of the weekend
Back in their places
Replaced by work thoughts
Plans and projects
All the volleyballs, spinning in space
Still there
Threatening
They haven’t moved
But they’re still there
My metaphors are all over the place
That’s part of it
The exhaustion
It’s hard to even think
About hitting the ground running
Hard enough
To just get out of bed
