Did yesterday know

Did yesterday know that today was going to be like this?
Did it read the forecast, cast the dice
or calculate the angle at which the projection of your shadow was going to fall on my face?
Did it count the steps to the staircase that would lead it blind into memory,
up a hill, behind a mountain and into a cave
of dankness and cold sleep;
away from morning, noon
and afternoon light
filled with amber wood
and Sunday delights?