These Days Poem by Frank Avon

Days, these days,
are all the same,
like fish swimming
in a goldfish bowl,
no one in the lead,
no one tagging along.

Monday was once
a fresh new start
of a week ahead,
a day-long dawn.

Tuesday wasn't
just any day, it was
a day of promise
already being fulfilled.

Wednesday was a peak
at the crest of the week,
choir practice
and prayer meeting.

Thursday let you
look ahead to what
the weekend would bring
and back at what's been done.

Friday (T G I F)
was one long coffee break,
then a long lunch,
and a looonng afternoon.

SaturDDay was freedom,
on the golf course
or mowing the lawn
or a stop by the hardware store
to shop for tools needed
or just hoped for
and seeds and fertilizer,
mulch and topsoil
and cow manure,

and then
a night on the town
that was still SaturDDay
until midnight, or maybe
an hour of so beyond,
and a designated driver
to see everyone home.

Sunday, a Day of Rest,
shop-lifted from
the Hebrew Sabbath.

And there were seasonal
days of days:
for the Queen of May,
for Mothers and Fathers,
for Memorials and
the American Flag,
firecrackers on
the Fourth of July,
a laborless day
to honor Labor,
and the anniversary
of weddings and births,
a candle for each year,
with cookies and punch
or hot dogs and beer,
the unhallowed eve
of All Hallows Day,
a Day of Thanks
for mythical pilgrims
and their dishonored hosts,
and blessing the turkey,
a Day of Gifts
of Santa's toys
and the Father's son,
Immanuel,
a Day of Light
at the depth of dark, then
a day of roses and chocolates
and Bee My Valentine,
Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday
and Holy Thursday,
and at last
'He arose, He arose,
with a mighty triumph
o'er his foes,
He arose a victor
from the dark domain
and He lives forever....'

That was a Day of Days.
But every day
was a day among all days,
with its own new dawn,
its own domain,

until our week
was warped,
our days fading
into one another,

until, all the same.
they swim around
their goldfish bowl
no one the first,
not one will last,

they come, they go
comme çi, comme ça

each day of days,
so near, so far....