i wake to the sound of birds

and the squeak of him shifting

in his easy chair right outside the door

 

he will have been up for an hour

at least, first coffee already consumed

as i slept on

 

a rhythm of life we’ve discovered

since he falls asleep practically as

pillow embraces head

 

and i do not, and for an hour or so

nightly read by sheltered light once

his soft snores begin beside

 

as i throw off covers and open up

the door, the cat jumps up from his lap

for my morning scratches then

 

leads me out to empty bowl insistent.

and the morning begins as usual

peaceful

        routine

                chosen

                         beautiful  

 

heather pound 2024

Photo by Stephanie Harvey on Unsplash