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End Of Summer Sunday

The rain wakes me

Earlier than I would like

But hey it’s Sunday and I have

Absolutely no plans but to live

Life in PJ’s read poetry cook pasta

Make tiny coffees all day long

Place them wherever I decide to go

Leave a trail of cups as memories

Of the journey I made today

From morning pages on my balcony

To playing a jazz record sent from Belgium

Cut up watermelon create a sticky mess

Deep long stretches in the middle of

The living room floor

New poetry book on the couch

Nap on the couch

Dreaming asleep and awake

This couch

A cradle for a broken body

After nights of dancing and days

Of making love

A nest for ideas to hatch

They fly straight in from the window

The constant murmur of China town outside

Background sound to the playlist of my life right now

This couch

Fertile soil where

Dreams are born

Nothing makes sense

Nothing has to

Make any sense today

This couch is my island

of poetry coffee jazz rain PJ's


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