dear ordinary day

dear ordinary day,

it's me again. thank you for your sonorous rain while i watched her make coffee. pelting-turned-mist falling into those wild tresses by commuting time. it made her appreciate the fleeting rays later in the afternoon. i notice the poppies have had their fling and passed the baton to peonies, now heavy with blossom. they bow their heads at twilight, dropping prayer petals into the freshly mown blades like sprinkles on a princess cake. spent clouds push may's abacus into a barely-noticed june, the only alert being the kitchen calendar. below which dry today's dishes, an ode to routine. holy plodding tugs at her sense of tomorrow, but not just yet. i will wait. she is thinking. has she loved people on this wednesday? yes, and recycled junk mail, and another thousand little tasks that scrape seconds slowly from their lives. or enrich it, depending on how they view quotidian mystery. stop long enough, please. i will last only three and a half minutes, maybe less. she is looking! out over the vineyards. beauty for it's own sake with room for tea and time to spare. well-spent! she puts the bookmark in, pulls crisp sheets of contentment over her--always--right shoulder. my cricket cousins can now begin.


love,
the sunset