Roots below, sun above

We, the humans, move through the week like shapeshifters.

Monday is a dog with three legs, it barks at any noise,

And if it had a fourth leg and more motivation

It might just walk away and leave you.

Tuesday is your mother, as she was before your birth,

Lighter of heart, and far quicker to laugh,

Not as she became, a bag of bones, worn down by life.

Wednesday …