Small Bend In the Road – Unincorporated
Five days a week I drive the same highway
east in morning, west in evening
but today is Friday – I’m working from home
and I miss that speck on the map
named Thursday, West Virginia.
It’s just a building now,
pale green frames around
two windows and the door,
bright green awning across the
porch that spans the front.
A bench still waits
below the right window,
big boards beneath the left,
as if repairs are to be made,
as if this might someday be more.
What’s is like to always live in Thursday,
perpetually stuck in day five?
No Monday, Saturday, no day of rest,
always waiting for what is to come,
knowing only what was, is past.
Is there a lesson here?
Is this the birth of mindfulness,
of being in the present?
Is this where the guru of meditation
waits
for each of us?
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