Monday morning, alarm clock on my phone tells me it’s 6 o’clock. I hit snooze and somehow wake up an hour later.

Monday morning running, metaphorically, subway rumbles above, I race up the stairs, or stair and then give up. “I’ll get the next one.”

On the train I see a familiar face and we acknowledge each other and acknowledge we are on the same page. We do our thing and ride to Manhattan.

Sunny day, chilly wind but after 72 hours of non stop rain it’s embraced as a Saturday morning. Only it’s Monday.

Monday blues, Sunday dreams of no more Mondays, turned to nightmares. Like the sun, I appreciate it and take it as I can get it.

Older lady walks through the train, empty cup in hand and is muted by the airpods and the desensitization of the riders.

It’s a thin line. Life is overwhelming. I think about that lady and what could have brought her to this. What brought her to be in this state?

I shake my head, say a quick prayer for her and all the ones who are lost or close to it.

Dreams on hold, never discarded. Words in mind never written and tunes in my heart never sung.

It’ll get done, I’ll get there one day and we will be holding hands as we live our lives together.

Monday mornings, Saturday mornings. No more rain, only clear skies. Words written impacting the ones who read them and tunes sung creating a dance for all who listen.

If you squint your eyes and listen unobstructed, you can read and hear me. Wherever I go, whatever may come.