Sunday Thursday

First 5 hours after a morning breaking feathered birds sing a chorus and feed their young dependent fledglings cuddled in beak and Tallon made nests well hidden up in trees. Underway moving traffic east-west on interstate race by leaving rolling rubber steel belted tires spinning beyond imagination wooshing and ringing reverberating through the cool air. Cylinder and piston driven engine noise echoes off the surrounding granite filled rolling hills. Throughout the Southern Tier all hamlets and tributaries, towns, villages and cities are in valleys awaken sleepy-eyed. All the while a commerce never ceasing 24/7 lassoes in a few early birds and ever nimble fingers caress plastic  screens of phones and I Pads. The quest for carbs, sugars, and fats of processed food substances filled with salts and preservatives quickly begins again perhaps never to end throughout the day with the unquenchable thirst signaled by a plastic bottle in hand. A morning misty haze electrified by sunlight becomes ablaze with blinding full spectrum white warm light.  The last lilac blossom aromas now joined by wisteria perfume the air. An open bedroom window covered by lace drapery fluttering sensually like Solomay's vail not covering up much tickles a quivering throbbing flesh. Somewhere a Herrod is passing judgment sentencing mankind to shackles of lifetimes of hard labor. From sunrise to twilight and sundown the lasso around one's neck never loosens. The ball and chain around one's ankle keep one in line of defined boundary. As Sunday spins on to Thursday and twilight makes love with dawn a nightingale sings a territorial song. Cool breezes flit around as a bridal vale lifts to reveal soft supple lips moistened for the kiss of a 5oclock shadow lip and cheek. Thursday Swoopes in downcasting its shadow upon plant life and mankind. The entire world shakes and pressure is released. Man and time continue to die. Sundays and Thursdays are born all over the world again.