My Haven My Nirvana

sun shadow finger marks streak down my kitchen they appear in even strokes, reminding me of piano keys excited sun-thriving plants lean toward my blinds hoping to soak in as much Vitamin D as they ever could I leave the lights off, they are invasive before nine o’clock no one else is up, the perfect time to prepare my wake up brew humming comes out of me as I begin to smell my favorite blend I add cocoa mix and sweetener to my oversized cup of joe the first car of the day starts up next door. Mr. McClinty. He arrives at work a couple of hours early, afraid to be late. At seventy-six, he probably fears he will be replaced. I sit down at the table and work the crossword as I sip my coffee.