denio

Sunday mornin'
brings the dawn in
it's just a restless feeling
by my side
early dawnin
Sunday mornin
it's just the wasted years
so close
behind

...but the coffee is made and the garden is full of portent... columbines have sprouted, as have some poppies and an African foxglove, seeded from last year. All the funny old giant impatiens have come up as well, and the tree dahlia is blooming in the dead of winter!

I move from my classroom to my office today. Ten years of teaching, I feel like I've graduated into the world of grownups. I hope I can stand it. At least I have a door and a window. I have to throw some bulbs in on the slope behind the window. Too late for this year, but not for next.

I dreamed of my cousin John last night, my soul brother, my black-sheep-partner. He calls me when he knows I need to hear his voice, often he calls after I dream of him. Sunday Morning is one of his busking tunes, I only hear it in his voice now, in my head.

I'll drink some more coffee, and pick up the phone soon.

Lovely day.