Sunday
Nov012009
Morning Melody
in 
motherhood, poetry
motherhood, poetry 
Napping in our morning nest.
The bitter taste of coffee lingers in my mouth as
I watch the squirrels rummage for their autumnal trappings.
The faint scent of sage hangs delicately in the air,
carried to my nose by a breeze from the same open window
that allows for conversation of bird and leaf to rustle in my ears.
This morning melody is made full by the occasional notes
of my sleeping infant— the finest strains of music my soul has ever known.
Reader Comments (1)
We have that same lion book AND rattle!