The Sabbath
Today do nothing as
you usually do. Time is pooling
open. No sorrow in this blue
breathing air. Do not touch
the light; do not brush your hair;
do not even speak
of what binds you in the week.
You have come here to
learn to be like us, or
not. For now we each inhale our sweet
share of sky. We will not release it until
sundown.
The above poem is an excerpt from Stranger's Notebook (Northwestern University Press, 2008). For more information, please see http://nupress.northwestern.edu