The Novice Poem by Paul Hartal

Late night of every Monday
I immigrate into Tuesday.
But I cannot stop yonder.
So I move to Wednesday.

And then I continue my journey
arriving as a lonely stranger
to Thursday.

Still unsettled, I relocate
as an outsider to Friday
And become
an unseasoned trainee
on Saturday.

Yet the clock on the wall
keeps ticking and tocking.
And next morning I wake up
As a dawning new visitor
to an inexorable Sunday.

Well, actually it doesn't matter
How old I am.
To every new day
I am a newcomer, a novice.

Just like you.