There were tasks,
work,
to be done.
And yet
little desire.
Reluctance reared
at every moment
until
finally,
I went to the porch
and laid an armful of work
on the table
there. Following hot days,
an inch of rain fell
this morning
and gray clouds have hung
in the sky
all day; sprinkles
have fallen,
now and then;
the air swirling from the north,
is soft and cool.
Phoebe babes
at the other end of the porch
sleep all day; parents,
watching from tree limbs,
don’t deliver worms.
A cat situates herself carefully
in a circle of comfort,
her eyelids half-closed,
then nestles her nose to paw
and falls asleep. Hummingbird
whirrs in
for a sip.
The Cicadea chorus
pulses,
the wind chime never stops ringing
its deep, cool tones
and the black and brown rooster
stands beside me
crowing loudly.
Okay…

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One cannot plan
a day,
like this. Unexpected
tasks
would surely interrupt. A day
like this
demands
attention,
an embrace,
stillness.