11/9 (Morning, 2)
I’ll miss the mornings most.
Glimpses of a sleepy 6:30 sun
Ribbon the clouds –
slice my window into foggy satin strips,
wake me slowly,
run fabric
over my
eyelids, opening.
Quiet grey of my kitchen –
a whisking stillness,
sweeping,
holding furniture in place.
My canvas bag drapes over
the shoulder of my table chair,
exactly where I placed it
the night before.
I breathe,
boil my kettle for tea,
the familiarity tastes
like earl grey candles
and pancakes.