Window seat

l sit perched upon my bar chair

a steaming cup of tea breathes succour

and a book placed aptly for company

a pretty pen and empty paper,
nearby at the ready

a staple to exhort rheumy thoughts

the kitchen window is painted shut

listed, it waits permission to open

and take in the fresh spring air

the washing machine whirls defiantly

cracking the peace

longer it seems than usual

l wait for silence

edging toward the low part of the day,

the sun beams through the window

promising 

so much more