Sometimes
on a Tuesday or a Wednesday,
I find myself daydreaming
about the quiet of Sunday morning.
An ache fills my chest
as I yearn
for the early morning hours
that seem to unfold more slowly
than hectic weekday mornings.
On Sunday,
rising in the predawn hour,
my dogs and I head out,
with only thoughts
for additional company.
Our walk is slow
as the dogs
sniff and explore grass
that was home to foxes and raccoons
a few short hours earlier.
Back home,
I start coffee and oatmeal,
the dogs wrestle on the rug.
For the next few hours,
until my husband arises late morning,
I have the luxury of puttering…
writing, reading, organizing.
No large task is accomplished,
no monumental decision made.
Rather,
Sunday morning stretches languidly,
like the curl of a gentle wave
on a quiet stretch of beach.
A Reading Life 
There truly is something so special about a Sunday morning. I think that everyone agrees socially that it is your rest day and I always find so much more joy in drinking my coffee and sitting in my pajamas.
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WOW! That last line…like the curl of a gentle wave
on a quiet stretch of beach. It’s the perfect bow on top to this peaceful poem about Sunday. As the reader, I was comparing your Sunday to my non-Sundays and relishing even more the peacefulness of this poem. Thanks for sharing! So glad we are both here writing this month. Be sure to add your sticker to the calendar! This poem earns it!!
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You really transported me to this morning you. It’s a great reflection to name that it is not a productive time, but a time to putter, and to be alone and quiet. It makes me want to rethink my own Sunday mornings. Do the minutes really seem to go by more slowly?
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I loved the imagery in this poem. Made so many connections to those puttering hours, and saw a window into a life lived in nature. Thank you for sharing.
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As artful as ever, your words are easing me into the weekend. Sunday is just around the corner.
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Beth, I just popped back to read all your poetry. It’s beautiful and filled with imagery. Your words capture precious moments.
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