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.