Siesta

Leaning toward the afternoon
Ready for the moon
Thoughts of sleep
And vague reminders
That Spring is coming soon

Dancing through the midweek
Compressing on my cheek
Aching for passion
As a song reflects
Secrets of the weak

Deciding on a holiday
Whether April, June or May
Rounding out
A walk about
Or a saunter some would say

Friday's race to sundown
The sky begins to frown
A sigh of satisfaction
While boredom
Seeks a new town

And August so deep
That I take a giant leap
Crossing my heart
Like permafrost
My watch begins to beep

And prayers of Sunday
The masses often say
With a wish and a dare
Bravely holding on to
The moments of each day

All rights reserved to James M. Cox