This Morning
In the beautiful, quiet morning
I’m disturbing that fog of silence
I’m putting away the dishes
Chinking glass, the shelves closing
Nothing banging
The sticky shelf finally opening
So I’m placing the bowls
Pulling drawers and
The silverware clinking,
The plates clanging; my feet shuffling
My first cup of tea
Is freshly brewing
And now here I am
Just writing
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