In the Village

Today, so far, resembles yesterday.   
A few unexceptional exceptions: the clouds 
Move a little faster, there's a rabbit 
In the yard gnawing the bark 
From the willow I felled
Last year but failed to gather, 
The fire's taking longer to catch, 
And I have a pain in my neck.  
Also, it's today, and practically speaking 
It's right now. I wish it were yesterday 
Again, just to keep tomorrow back.  

The last thing I need is tomorrow. 
Tomorrow means yesterday is with the others,
A and today too, which I regretted seeing 
Go. I don't like to lose things, and especially
Not days. I remember yesterday
I said: "Today is the day." 
But now it is the day I had in mind, 
And I should have done it 
Yesterday.  I should never wait 
To do yesterday tomorrow, since tomorrow 
Has its own that needs doing.  
I don't know what they are, 
Because it's still today, which looks exactly—
Notwithstanding minor differences—
Like yesterday, which I suspect
Will resemble tomorrow. I hope 
Tomorrow rebels and proves me wrong.