Blessings before Noon

The tailless cat, warm on my lap.
The rain outside, soothing and gentle.
The warmth of the quilt over my body.
Her voice on the phone.
Meditation and calmness claimed.
Prayers. Long and languid and grateful.
A minimal of pain and depression as I rise from the bed.
The landscape as I travel to the diner,
the bright colors of November barely muted
by rain.
Coffee. Coffee again.
The smokey taste of bacon.
Hours without deadlines to write.
More prayers, so needed.
The small child playing across the cafe.
A task completed.
Chemistry, in form of way too many pills saving me
from an old body running amok.
The anticipation of afternoon.

About this poem

Sometimes, we forget the everyday.

Tom