As if accidentally
a Sunday fell over me
apologetically at first
mumbling a prayer or it
could have been a curse

stumbling down the street
going somewhere else to meet
someone else
drunkenly swaying to the
chorus of bird song.

Presently
which is always later than I think
I too
fell into a steaming coffee
and with no apology
yawned.

The sun
hiding in the branches of a tree
winks boyishly or maybe girlishly
at me
I'm not sure about the sun, but it's
a bit of fun guessing.

Trying to spread my wings
I found it's
no use using butter.