Unfolded purple chrysalis, spotted are the lilacs with morning droplets. Accenting my garden, where the sun, birds, and moon hearken to a simpleton’s burden.
Percolated to perfection, steamed milk accompanies its desolation. Just a whip of cream and a stick of cinnamon is all I need for this writing expedition.
Morning dove through the branches, slick were its clouded feathers; blemished with the distant sun. Perched, its song of broken proportions wakes me. Its eyes of burnt tidepools drag me in. Rolling over, I tell the messenger, “Just 5 more minutes Morning.”
Coffee, sweet coffee sitting on my desk alone, “Rejuvenating“.