A Poem For A Thursday (That Really Feels Like A Friday)

I'm all sorts of discombobulated this week and have been a day ahead since Monday. Tuesday felt like Wednesday, Wednesday felt like Thursday and I really woke up believing this was it - FRIDAY. Imagine my dismay when I realized there was a whole day to go. Could be worse.

Anyhow this poem has nothing to do with days of the week or silly humans who can't keep things straight. But I did jot it into my journal about 13 years ago and it also popped up earlier this week on The Writer's Almanac. That seems too coincidental not to share it.

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.