Waning dawnsat an open doorbeckoning a bleary writerto awe,bitter coffee contrastedwith the sweet of birdsong,crickets, sunstreakscreaking over maple & mountain.Soon mornings will requirea closed door,strategiesfor hunkering against cold,the Holiday Season, the urgeto hibernateunder a mountain of quiltswith the furnace on.This morningpull on socks & sweater,take what you can get,gratefulfor what you have been given.
9.09.2014
6 A.M. on Tuesday
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This is really beautiful, Marian.
ReplyDeleteI love this (wiggling my toes inside warm fluffy socks.)
ReplyDeleteThe bitter coffee, the sweet of birdsong.....and gratitude....loved this!
ReplyDeleteToo late to say good morning, Marian, but I hope you are having a good day. There are no two ways, the sun is heading south.
ReplyDeleteit's still over 80 degrees here, at 20 to midnight. blistering. and mosquitoes. ~
ReplyDeletethanks, friends. not quite ready yet, but... no choice in the matter anyway. my door is open again this morning. :)
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