Category Archives: sunday

news to me.

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my doormat without a sunday paper on it.

my very kind paper man

told me to just text him if i was ever missing a paper

 he would drive over to deliver it

i love the sunday paper and especially the crossword

love throwing open my door on a sunday morning

the paper patiently waiting for me on my door mat

love opening it

with a fresh cup of steaming coffee

and diving in

but alas

the day came

when it wasn’t there

 i sent a gentle text to my paper man

saying there was no sunday paper waiting for me today

 he very quickly responded to say –

that is because today is saturday.

ah, i thought.

en.wikipedia.org › wiki › Sunday

Sunday is the day of the week between Saturday and Monday.

Sunday is a day of rest in most Western countries, and a part of the weekend.

“time flows in strange ways on sundays.” 

haruki murakami

sunday in october.

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sunday in october

the farmer, in the pride of  sea-worn acres,

showed me his honey mill, the honey-gate.

late afternoon was busy on the land,

the sun was a warm gauzy providence.

the honey mill, the honey-gate. and then,

near by, the bees. they came in from the fields,

the sun behind them, from the fields and trees,

like soft banners, waving from the sea.

he told me of their thousands, their ways,

of pounds of honey in the homely apiaries.

the stores were almost full, in autumn air,

against the coming chill, and the long cold.

he was about ready to rob them now,

the combs. he’d leave them just enough to keep them.

I thought it a rather subtle point point he made,

wishing providence would be as sure of us.

-richard eberhart

 

 

image credit: danny1970