Weekday

Monday, it was, just
Regular Monday,
No holiday, no

Annual awards,
No events rooted
In church or in state.

You could pile fine dry
Splits to honor cold
Weather on the way,

Still it was Monday,
And seasonable
For early autumn,

Leaves not even down,
A kind of dusty
Gold haze on the green.

There was no one here.
Let it sink through you.
Nearly no one there.