It is Monday, hello moon, slipping toward fullness. Here we are and somehow the fever broke in the reckless abandon of the night, the coming at it all wrong and cockeyed, lying sleepless and still in the dark spangled somehow suddenly not with sorrow but with laughter.

Cheerfully workman-like this morning. I will drink my cup and feed my hunger and shoulder my shovel and be off. The workday is such a simpler master than the fraught seas of the off-hours. So, hello drumbeat, and welcome.