"Rain makes its own night, long mornings with the lamps left on."
savoring a long, slow sunday morning
my turn to sleep in, waking to find my boys
wandering outside, silas dragging the pillowcase he just this week
appropriated as his blankie
tea for a change, and watching silas sloppily but successfully eat granola
then knitting on the couch, and the rain started
how we cherish the sound of rain, the smell of damp earth
how it draws us in, invites us to linger
over tea and poetry, and old journals
feeling a stirring of hunger, eggs maybe
wanting something I can pour maple syrup on
it will soon be time to change out of PJs--so odd
for me to still be in them, so late--
but not just yet, not just yet
Playing along with Amanda. Won't you share, too?