a sunday morning

the veil of sleep softly lifts
gently at first,
then alarmingly
as a cat-induced crash is heard from the kitchen
"awake, awake"
the house announces
"it is time to awake"
inspection finds an overturned canister
sugar on the counter
and the culprit no where in site
sunday morning begins with a clean up
soon sausages are sizzling
pancakes are rising
and the smell of coffee creates an atmosphere
a zombie-like procession begins
the reluctant wakeful make their way to the dining room
cool morning air drifts in through screens
and etta james sings about
"a sunday kind of love"
from my cd player
sunday is here, breakfast is on
last restful day
precedes  the mysteries
of what the upcoming work week will bring
but for now,
for this moment
sunday morning soothes me,
removes me
from everything but
the first sip of coffee
and now

 

Reviews

[Samith Pich]

So much to love about this!

You've painted a scene, told a story, embellished with beautiful specificity yet its something anyone can relate to.

The procession of zombies, the sausages sizzling, the moment before the antipacted first sip of coffee - love it!

If I had to nit-pick, and I'm stretching here, is you've captured so many senses yet I feel like you're missing the impact of describing morning light - it might allude to the whether its the code light of winter, or the warm bath of spring etc.

I want to know more about this family, who are these procession of zombies? Addingf small details like 'the brain-dead horde shuffle in with unicorn slippers, a sea of lego parts and Totoro makes way...' would illuminate the family

Thanks again for sharing

[jen]

Thank you so much for your review and I am grateful for feedback all the time (not nitpicky at all, I agree 100%). This was written when I had my kids at home still :) They are all on their way now.. just me and the old man now but this poem does bring me back to that place and music is always the key for me. Many of my poems have the thread of song that inspired them running through them.

[Brittany]

Sunday mornings are amazing...

I feel as if I've truly, vicariously through this piece, witnessed first hand the little intimacies that make up the last morning in your week. The peacefulness of knowing the week is done, and this one day, was made just so you could kick it with some good music and coffee. (Two of the best things about life, by the way)

By the way, Etta James rocks my old-school socks. Ella Fitzgerald, Sara Vaughn, and Billie Holiday also constantly battle for my affection. Billie always wins though. I just did a tribute poem, "Lady Day", in her honor.

[Steve]

Sunday mornings are special, and I love how you capture it in this personal and inspiring write. For me its a feeling that can be experienced on any particular morning where reflection, hope, happiness (or just laziness) descends upon you and that feeling of Sunday is there again, all around you. Thankyou :)