A Man who, lycra clad, had spent
The dreary morning cycling over wolds,
Is now asleep before the fire, back unbent,
And legs outstretched beside the dog.
In sober Sunday sleep he holds
A half drunk cup of tea within his hands.
And gently snores himself to momentary wakefulness.
A girl who spent the morning playing hymns
Upon the dreadful organ's tuneless gale
Of freezing, wheezing, stale air, spreads limbs
Of skintight denim blue upon the floor, her pale
Winter face concealed by hair,
Party straight, from yesterday. And coal
Shuffles down behind her back and time expands.
The dog dreams in the purring peacefulness
Of the afternoon, whose quiet warmth is improved
By the cats, expressed contentedness,
Serene and not expecting.
While the girls, unmoved
By necessity, ignore the need to finish homework
And lie in the electric blanket heat
Of the double bed, texting,
Keeping the sabbath embodying the verb to shirk.
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