Often confusing

Saturdays.

School began Saturday mornings.
A dim light through the mottled glass,
As I awake to some milk and tack.
Friday was gone,
Summer's soon,
Wake up.
The quiet humming ac betrayed,
The cold inside the room I was to enter.
My socks were in there, those white wardrobes.
Sneaking past a sleeping ghost.
Quiet Saturdays.
When the weekends made sense and my only worry,
Was in my van a delay, had to make it before,
The hall assembled it's mighty prey.
Drooling and faint, standing asway.
We assembled for our day,
Dreaming of far far away,
When Thursday shall come again.