Sunday

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The sun, yellow bright in it’s inevitability, one handedly shakes us up and at em with a blank page invitation to other opportunities, and in the first precious hours of wakedness, you read mornings news, contemplate the laughter conversations of yesterday, and finish another 1000 words of intention.

Here comes the mob media posts of lovely people that sonder into your awareness and the insistent shout and satisfying of fur friends answered and satiated.

Now the wonder of breakfast begins frying pan busy and oven insistent and I cut and chop my way through “i should have said” considerations and D minor C major progressions of sparkler flared recollection.

Not for nothing and nothing is what you’ll get but …..oh wait….bacon!

Lunch times laugh still pings about my soul from yesterday and the technicians exasperation at the old timers insistence still makes me warm smile curl around its recollection. A note of sour trashcan ended discord interrupts my progress with comments of someone else angst.

Toaster pops, coffee wafts, poached eggs shimmer, potatoes smile, and the table conversations begins in a newspaper spread passing of family on a Sunday morn.

Not for nothing and nothing is what you’ll get but …..oh wait….bacon!

….coffee?

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