Sunday Night...

It's Sunday night, and always the same...

feeling, combined with the shame

that I feel it, but I can't deny

it's there, and I don't know why

'cause I love what I do, and I always have

but there's never enough of that weekend salve--

and on Sunday night, I look at the time

galloping fast, like this hip-hop rhyme

toward Monday morning's alarm clock roar

and me, I'll be panting out the door

to lunchrooms and playgrounds and bells that ring,

feel the Sunday night 'thud,' even though it's the thing

that I love to do, always have always will

for 20 years past, 20 more...but still,

wish the weekend would stay into the new week's beginning--

it's like I just want an extra inning,

but I'll be okay, once I hear a kid's giggle

or see a kindergartner doing that in-the-seat wiggle,

Find my way through the week, then Friday at four,

I'll savor a well-deserved weekend once more.