Monday before the News
A little grey.
A little sun.
Uncertain which will prevail.
You sip your coffee.
You pray.
You write.
You pour out the darkness,
demons reduced to paper and ink.
Locked away.
Making room
for the sun.
About this poem.
Another Monday morning. Mondays are hard. Mornings are hard. Frail as I look, I am harder.
So far.
I head out in a couple of hours to Concord, NH to get the one year post surgical cancer news from the latest round of tests. I am expecting good news. But then, I am an optimist.
Be well. Travel wisely,
Tom
Quarry House 
Concord is a hard stones throw away. If you’re ever in town for the pleasure ,and germs aren’t an issue, it would be a pleasure to talk again.
One this dang plague is over, I would love that.