The Little Things. {Poem}

The moon keeps me up when it’s unblocked and bright. 
I welcome the sleeplessness.  
Last night, it lit the way for the storm. 
I lay there listening to 
The tapping, 
The flashes,
The rumbles. 
I thanked the roof for keeping me dry.
I woke to Sandy scratching his neck, jingling his tags. 
I stretched my arms overhead, 
My shoulder slid back into its socket. 
My bedroom smiles in the morning, 
That’s how it feels anyway. 
It’s the way the light hits the tapestry across from my bed 
And the morning slides through the shutters. 
The sound of calm—
Creating the space for ritual.
I shake the sleep from the sheets
Pull the blanket taut, 
Erasing last night, preparing for the day. 
The red glow of the stovetop. 
The sound the scoop makes against the coffee grinds 
Makes my mouth water. 
My lungs are always relaxed in the morning, 
Breath comes and goes without a struggle. 
I open the door.
The smell of Earth and Sky’s overnight rendezvous 
Thickens the air. 
The birds are hiding, 
Waiting for their wings to dry. 
The kettle beckons. 
It’s time to sit and write the day into motion.


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