6 am, as usual. The dog is scratching at the front gate. As usual. Rising is an uncertain thing. You have to be careful. First this leg, then the other. Where are my keys?
The dog comes in, enters my room without a word or a wag of the tail, and buries himself beneath the foot of the drapes. Well, he has been out all night. God knows what he's been up to.
A bowl of instant oatmeal as usual, with brown sugar, some raisons, and milk, and the morning news. The usual news. The dog makes little woofing sounds in his sleep.
On the other side of the walkway the neighbor dries her hair in the sun with an orange towel. brown arms and legs the color of honey, hair cascading to her toes as she bends over the veranda's ceramic floor. I think that I am quite in love after all. The Hindu morning prayer is sounding from the temple, gliding over the browning grasses of the rice fields.
A fugue of bells. A reminder of so many unknown things.
The dog comes in, enters my room without a word or a wag of the tail, and buries himself beneath the foot of the drapes. Well, he has been out all night. God knows what he's been up to.
A bowl of instant oatmeal as usual, with brown sugar, some raisons, and milk, and the morning news. The usual news. The dog makes little woofing sounds in his sleep.
On the other side of the walkway the neighbor dries her hair in the sun with an orange towel. brown arms and legs the color of honey, hair cascading to her toes as she bends over the veranda's ceramic floor. I think that I am quite in love after all. The Hindu morning prayer is sounding from the temple, gliding over the browning grasses of the rice fields.
A fugue of bells. A reminder of so many unknown things.
No comments:
Post a Comment