The drag of Mondays
Moving through the tedium
Reaching for the light
poetry, prose, and photography

Dawn rises quickly
Or perhaps that’s just illusion?
The birds are singing
Danger in offended rage
Most toxic of poisons
Seeps into our marrow
Boiling, burning away joy
Leaving nothing by charred
Remains
Walking past the stalls
Early morning at Pike Place
Tourists were absent