Morn

Sliding into newly risen sun
On a downhill slope of joy
Wet rhododendron leaves open and weep
A sparrow flock swoops through
Too fast to see until one stops to chatter

The third coffee sits cooling
As thoughts interfere with bed warm feelings
He cleans his beak on the twig he clutches
Staring through the glass as if he sees me
Pecking at the keys with winter cracked finger tips

The dog walking neighbor lady
Slowly paces by in clothes a house painter would work in
Then turns as if knowing she's watched
To head back up the hill to home
The dog leaves the only trace she's ever been here

Buds are opening
Ants are everywhere
It's time to put out hummer feeders
The trees are yet unleaved
And the road awaits us

Reviews

[J]

Like spending a few moments with a cuppa with my dearest buddy. ;-) Miss ye, darlin'.