Smoking Hot Sunday

Left my body in the shadow
Still there is the mirrored meadow
Burning leaves upon my skin —

Wasted days of weekend freedom
Only for my need to read an’
Nothing else I had to do —

Wanted so much more to write for
Or the train for my riding encore
Left my rhythm here just fine —

When the burning woods send smoking
Hot and sweaty breath of joking
No one else is laughing here —

So I went to bed on Sunday
Grinning came tomorrow’s Monday
Not much time for sleeping though.