It is Wednesday.
In the cold pre-dawn
I empty the dish rack.
Pots and spoons I washed
Seven hours before
When the week was young.
Glisten with wednesdayness.
It is Wednesday, Woden's day
Full moon of the week
Day of the wild hunter
Master of the runes
Seer of the single eye.
It is Wednesday, Mercredi,
Day of the winged one
Gifting us quicksilver speech,
Sprinkling everyday things
With emerald glitter dust.
It is Wednesday
Heart of the week
The kingly day,
After the sleepy infancy of Sunday
Monday's awkward adolescence
Tuesday's impetuous youth.
It is Wednesday
Apex, turning point,
Before the leaves of the week
Turn Thursday gold
And fall to Friday's rich, moist ground,
Before the lighting of candles
Invites Saturday's repose.
It is Wednesday.
Where does the Sabbath go
During the week?
