In the morning of this the first day:
Scissor-cold spring wind, laughter at the park,
The comfort of old friends.
Afternoon, inside, has different pleasures:
The sussuration of turning pages, the sillage of spice tea,
Chocolate chip cookies, melting-warm from the oven.
Gentled, the promise of the week stretches, like a cat on a sunny windowsill.
- Kathy, 21/9/15
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