in spite of, or enhanced by the contours of your bones upon my fingertips
I feel things in the morning with this electric sensualness . . .
I remove sheets from my bed, cotton-cool as i slide my hand inside
quilted cotton batting - frayed smoothness, memories of line-drying & my mother's hands
methodically moving thru the routine steps of a new day . .
sunshine fights it's way into this house shadowed by corners, walls & colored glass
methodically moving from room to room, making things right.
lining 'em up, dusting them off, finding their place . .
lining 'em up, dusting them off, finding their place
arranging a vase of wild thistle . .
careful of thorns
finding just the right light . .
it is quiet
the dog demands sparkle-time
(he likes to chase luminosity made by the reflection of bright-shiny-thing)
so I give him some time
I need music & coffee to pull me out of this feeling of wonderland.
this quiet slightly-shadowed place ;
fix you pops up, coffee hot enough . .
examining my space
examining my life
laundry folded, plants watered, porch swept, poop bagged, baby lettuce encouraged, chamomile fondled with these wonderland hands
finding my life
finding a place . .
and returning to the sheets and their relenting stark coolness
feel and move through this day
noticing the shine ....
feeling the cool cotton weight of another day
chasing the luminosity