Image borrowed from BingNo jump-starting the day,
no bare feet slapping the floor
to bath and breakfast.
Dozing instead
in the nest
like, I suppose,
a pair of gophers
underground
in fuzz and wood shavings.
One jostles the other
in closed-eye luxury.
We are at last
perhaps
what we are:
uncombed,
unclothed,
mortal.
Pulse
and breath
and dream.
Marjorie Saiser
Posted over on the Writer's Almanac
"Weekends, Sleeping In" by Marjorie Saiser, from Beside You at the Stoplight
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