My Own Sabbath

 

I want to capture something

Something of this padded moment

Sunlight is muffled, outside movements, too

Warm coffee in the cup, mottled by cream

I am tired, not having slept, yet have

Numbered hours without expectation

Except of myself

My own sabbath day

Tomorrow is the Lord’s

Don’t worry, I’m aware of presence

 

C L Couch

 

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