morning routine

she swings her legs to one side of the bed to sit up with a stretch;
no sadistic beeping from a clock to shake her back into the world,
just a natural sense of readiness

the world is dark and still outside her windows,
the air cool...as far as she can tell.
will it be rain or sunshine? warm or cool?
it doesn't matter
she will wait for the day to unwrap itself like a gift

she cooks herself a morning bite,
humming in rhythm with the whir of appliances,
the only wakeful accompaniment
but eager to join in the song as always

she leans her head over the open stove,
letting the curls in her hair rise with the heat
beauty shop broiling

she is still inside
will it be rain or sunshine? warm or cool?
it doesn't matter
she will wait for the edges of the day to bloom outward
like a flower
carry it with her, enjoy its color and aroma
until tomorrow when she waits for a new day
to blossom