My schedule With Them

I walked to the store on a breezy, sun swept, Monday.

Absent is the store owner.

I bought groceries on my Monday and utilized

On Tuesday I went to my well groomed, local park.

I hailed an old, dilapidated cab.

The zealous junker sped past me with a familiar struggle.

I did not feed the birds on my Tuesday stroll.

I took pictures on Wednesday.

I enjoy the way the colors of my friend's portrait faces dance into the lens.

I lift my camera to create memories this 23rd dec date into my memories.

I hope for the colors to dance into the history of my film.

My friends stay home when it's cold and the colors stay home with them.

On Thursday I met a nice person who leaves a sweet smell in the air.

They offer me coffee as I sit nuzzled in my booth, a careless child in the comfort of blankets.

The longing memory haunts for a brief moment then, like an old shirt left in the sun, it fades.

I may not come back to this ancient ruin of admiration where the tomb of possibility lies.

I don't like coffee.

I went to hangout with my friends on warm, dry Friday night.

We usually explore our small world in the face of our encroaching anxiety.

My Friends stay home, it's not cold today.

I'll let the small world remain a small, this Friday.

On Saturday I garden.

The bulbs of the flowers hide like a buried lamp.

The world and I want to view their color.

The lamps do not want to view me.

I do not view the lamps on my cloudless Saturday.

I woke up on Sunday morning and waltzed through my routine

The mailbox's contents were the goal of my day's race

There were no mysterious contents of the mailbox.

Mail doesn't run on Sunday.

I haven't done much this week