Sunday morning contemplations
sans the New York Times
as I have not had enough coffee yet
to detach from
the remains of sleep
travel the melting slush
to the bookstore.
My son has left for his different
world of urban life, science,
career making-all things no longer
in my purview.
The Chickadees, Pine Sisken
and one irascible downy woodpecker
stay on as my breakfast companions
while the dog
shares scrambled eggs with bacon
and whole wheat toast.