Sunday Morning by Vicki Bower, The Gallery Goddess

I found this little morsel written Sunday, August 14, 2011 at 8:44am…Image

I want to sleep more

but my brain tells my body there’s things to do.

My lids peel back over my eyes like an old Sci Fi space helmet as

the gray velvet morning light pries its way into my consciousness.

I hear the refrigerator humming on my distant right in harmony with the far-off hum

of the AC upstairs.  An occasional raindrop taps on the window, asking to come in.

Tiny shards of pure, crisp, white light boldly define the edges of the light-blocking curtains

as I decide to leave our little futon to enter into the cottony softness of relentless daybreak.

Both my knees pop in unison like the sound of tiny glass rods breaking,

the floor creaks in a tiny protest as my body rises from four inches above floor level to 5 feet and 9 inches.

Momentum. A graceful stumble later, I am in the bathroom, the daily ready-room of cold hard tile that possesses

no sympathy for my longing of the warmth of covers or my man’s spooning embrace.

Get in, get done, get out!

I can hear the clock tick. It’s funny how at some times it’s louder than others, or is it just my perception?

On the floor/futon, Ray is stretched out with the entire bed to himself snoring softly.  I’m jealous.

I open the curtains a *tiny crack* and my 2D homework from college is out there;

every shade of gray I mixed and then some, just delicious.

Up, the sky is bright light gray, the one shade below white

illuminating the darkest gray parking lot down below.

Nothing to see here. The clock starts to get quieter.

I close the curtain and slip back into bed.

Ray shifts to make room without waking.

I nestle, and my eyes close with a smile.


~ by The Gallery Goddess on April 11, 2013.

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