If quarantine has taught me anything,
it is the pleasure of small things.
There is an order to the day,
absent when schedules are rushed.
A pot of Love Supreme coffee from Chicago,
Art Pepper’s jazz warming the room,
two pups asleep on the plush rug at my feet.
Outside the tangerine sunrise
melts into the horizon.
My desk by the window holds all I need —
pens, extra sharp pencils, an open journal.
A year ago, this comfort was only possible
on Sunday mornings.
But now, I rise at 5 am for a long walk —
dogs, birds and neighborhood foxes in tow.
I will miss the solitude, the order, the peace of mind
when the world reopens fully.
For now, I sip my coffee
and appreciate the comforts of home.