long tilts sun slants
in on the mug we like this morning
-coffee and i choose carefully-
trees in off the balcony and sunshine
myriad leaves rustle the sunday rustle velvet shimmering whispered rustle
in my face, in my eyes, in my space
comeseecomeseedaisiescomeseecomesee
insistantly softly seductively (small cacti cutely sunsit quite still)
bells' joyous chime and loudly catholic
and my tongue awakened by a wickedly tart bulgarian
and banana in hardly sweet spoonfuls
sunday silence lies in wait around corners
glowingly unpristine, chippily chatty
birds chirp in into my goodmorning eleanor, owain, sloan
and the icecream car goes by early-ting-a-ling-a-ling
but being my very own sunday i lure my coffee
back to bed with a book made entirely
of paper
