What shall I do Sunday
when I wake alone?
Coffee shall be brewed
church pews filled,
brunch crowds will
fill hunger’s void,
but what shall I do?
The park will have picnics
and family games,
couples shall drive country
roads hand in hand.
What shall I do, though,
when they stop all the clocks
and I wake on Sunday alone?

Written for the Carry on Tuesday prompt to include “stop all the clocks’ from W.H. Auden


Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

4 responses to “Sunday

  1. I know exactly how that feels!

  2. Oh – I really like this one … so melancholic … reminds me of that old Irving Berlin song, “What’ll I Do …” very cool Mark.

  3. Frightening thought, to wake alone, totally alone with all the clocks stopped!

  4. What indeed. Nice spin on it.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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