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Return of the Pen. No 1.: Morning Brew

Updated: Dec 4, 2023

Softly, as in a morning sunrise

Steam over the lip of the mug

squirrels, chipmunks, birds rustle

under fallen leaves

Quietude becomes wise

Thoughts slip back under blanket,

nestled in the warmth of her back,

held securely under resting hair,

neck, shoulder, arm.

Calm comes to unsettled mind,

nature comes alive within the

confines of the fenced yard, the

naked limbs of neighbor’s trees,

the low rumble of her slumber and

the spiced and berried notes of

store-bought coffee brewed below

the frosted window of the

downstairs kitchen.

Fall too soon will slip quietly

into winter, unnoticed,

gone again until the Earth’s next

rotation ‘round the sun,

but for the moment,

this brisk, rain-soaked morning,

dripped over painted leaves and

patient wildlife busy with the work

of preparation, I sit,

quiet somewhere on the

fringes of contemplation and

meditation and remark

to myself that while she sleeps,

love may never be more full,

More present, more in hand

than right now,

sipping morning brew.

Still amid the cold, warming

softly as in a morning sunrise.

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