wool and morning sun

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sitting on the cold stone steps
at their back door
dried leaves golden
lay at my feet
some rustle by
in the wind
that blows my hair across my face

sweater tucked beneath my seat
to curb the chill
woolen fingerless mitts warm my hands
(i think of dear r who knitted them for me)
allow movement of my pen
across the page

i think of my husband
running
he must be around mile ten by now
i think of my children warm inside
crafting with their baba
the pup comes to sniff at my feet
then moves on
as she does
checking here there
one moment to the next

all of this
around me
fills me
even the numbing fingertips
on this crisp november morn
completes what needs to be

and then she comes out
wraps a purple shawl around my shoulders
(because once a mother always a mother)
and with the purple wool
and the morning sun
i sink into my day

 

sending a little love your way, m

 

***
this is a gentle reminder that gratitude week starts monday, november 11.  i hope you’ll be joining…

 

 

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