I have a few moments in the morning these days.
A few moments where I'm awake and alone, before my children get up.
Silent kitchen, coffee brewing, a glass of orange juice in my hand,
and, for the first time since last winter,
a candle on the table.
The dawn is not spectacular, like yesterday, but happening
in quiet understatement, behind a layer of clouds.
I can write, and I can think.
Letting my thoughts wander where they please, for a few moments still.
The oatmeal is cooking behind me. Bubbly,lazy sound.
I'm getting up,
and I'm off to wake up my children.