Time to See
Sunlight comes through the window.
The wooden bowl casts a shadow,
beautiful, simple.
This morning, again, you are in no hurry.
Your life has slowed down and there is time
to see.
About this poem.
In the last week or two, I have been seeing differently. Seeing more. In the snippet of the world I am living in, and in myself. Not everything about this time of quarantine has been negative.
Tom
