i wake to the sound of birds
and the squeak of him shifting
in his easy chair right outside the door
Â
he will have been up for an hour
at least, first coffee already consumed
as i slept on
Â
a rhythm of life we’ve discovered
since he falls asleep practically as
pillow embraces head
Â
and i do not, and for an hour or so
nightly read by sheltered light once
his soft snores begin beside
Â
as i throw off covers and open up
the door, the cat jumps up from his lap
for my morning scratches then
Â
leads me out to empty bowl insistent.
and the morning begins as usual
peaceful
       routine
               chosen
                        beautiful Â
Â
heather pound 2024

Photo by Stephanie Harvey on Unsplash









