Sunday Morning

A sip of something sweet
on the front porch rocking chair
summer sits patiently behind the dew
I wrap my fingers in last night’s damp hair

A car whizzes past- in a hurry, in a hurry
a butterfly floats in the shade
Another sip of coffee in his T-shirt
The songs of morning birds fade

I think about the holiday
I wonder what about the week
glitter on my nightstand shimmers in the moon light
chaos of clutter below a pipe leak

I wave hello to a neighbor
His dog smiles at me too
All the stories of blissful Summertime
oh, how they all must be coming true

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