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The Scents of Sunday Morning
May 17, 2019
Fresh damp air
Swirls through dark coffee grounds
Oats and honey tingle my tastebuds
Moments like this are scarcely found
I sit by the light of the rising sun
Surrounded by skyscrapers of wood
Freckled with chestnuts and leaves
A deciduous neighborhood
Frogs jump through the clear creek
Creating mysterious sounds
They are drunk on euphoria
Swimming upstream, completely unbound
With my book in hand
And land as far as the eye can see
On this Sunday morning
I am nothing, if not filled with glee
© Lina A., Worcester, MA
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