Sunday Morn
quiet Sunday morn,
up at my usual time —
it’s one hour early.
grandson and husband sleeping
i read and write in silence.
i’ve hardly looked up —
no hesitation breathing.
yes, God’s good that way.
my heart palpitates
in caffeinated language.
the poetic muse
with socks and mismatched pjs —
washbasin of thoughts.
the silky water is pure
barely moving through fingers.
the dove does not hurry time, no predators — sailboat peacefully glides…
11/3/2019
3 tankas and a monoku
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2019
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