Warm Summer Morning | Short Poem No. 65

On a comfortably warm summer morning,
hearing the clock alarm start its buzzing,
the sun gently radiates on, hugging,
my face through the curtain with a nuzzling.

‘What are my plans?’ so asked, rashly, my brain,
as if I had an urgency to wake.
Wisely, my hand acted, as if in pain,
to snooze my phone and give morning a break.

Oh yes, today I don’t have a schedule,
except to float quiet, in peace, in bed;
stay in my pajamas. It’s just as well.
And don’t let a worry come in my head.

But a quick thought took my smile away:
Realizing that today is a work-day.

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Warm Summer Morning
Photo by Adam Grabek on Unsplash