On Waking: An Etheree

Sleep

dark, deep

body prone

oblivion,

blessed, deep rest.

Waking is a process

I hear water, birdsong,

eyes unwilling to open,

but the smell of coffee temptsme

from this soft cocoon of nothingness

I stretch, rise, smile and greet this Easter morn.

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About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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