Sometimes Sunday


Sometimes Sunday feels like

Standing on one of the streets of my hometown, looking at the sky.

Two birds flying overhead, the distant hum of lawnmowers.

A lone tumbleweed spinning past in the kind of cliche that makes me laugh out loud,

but it’s kind of an empty laugh and there’s an uneasy feeling behind it.

I try to shake the feeling off but as much as I try to ignore it, it’s there –

a tugging in the back of my mind, a reminder;

It all goes by so quickly

and it will all be over soon.


Sometimes Sunday feels like

A long white cloud stretching across the bluest of skies.

The laughter of children playing in the grass

The smile of the one who holds your heart

A single moment playing itself over and over

and the wind whispering in my ear

Nothing ever really dies.


What does Sunday feel like to you?


12 responses to “Sometimes Sunday

  1. It’s beautiful how you described your Sundays. My Sundays are usually packed with activities, although sometimes i wish i could just stay in bed and enjoy a good bookm. I hope you have a great weekend 🙂

    Ai @ Sakura Haruka

    • Thank you Ai. You should give yourself permission to have a book reading Sunday once in a while – those are the best. Hope you have a lovely weekend too.

    • Thanks. I think Sundays definitely need sleep-ins, so can understand how that turns into rush-rush if you need to be somewhere. Hope you have a great weekend (and that your Sunday isn’t too bad.)

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