Poem – ‘Sunday, so’

Sunday, so.




I’m ill today. I know I

say that every Sunday

but it’s true, I do.


I’m low today; I know

there’s nothing new to

tell you, but I’m low.


So the wind swings

from the autumn trees,

I ache from head to


toe, that’s so. Elbows,

fingers, knees and toes,

the sort of pain that


lingers throughout the

day and blinds the night.

I’m right, I’m ill today.


One comment on “Poem – ‘Sunday, so’

  1. mary phillips says:


    Repeating things is not a bad thing to do…it’s how we learn and know; how we express important messages. In my experience the more repeated the message, the higher its importance.

    I don’t know if you like the work of Karlheinz Stockhausen but these words, to me, are very astute:

    “Repetition is based on body rhythms, so we identify with the heartbeat, or with walking, or with breathing.”

    I would add that repetition always seeks to serve a need.

    I like the rhythm of this poem.

    Sending warmth for your aches.

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