SUNDAY

It happens every week.

A slow journey,

Culminating

With this one event.

This happening

That often flavors

The taste of the next

Destination.

Defines the road

By which we travel

With or without

A heavy burden.

Sometimes,

Forgotten promises

And barbed daggers

Thrown in frusteration

Aimed true in anger

Weigh heavily.

Othertimes

We are lighter,

Brighter,

Allowed to

Begin again,

Free of doubt.

Sunday.

j.b