Town hall bells ring
Vibrating my skin awake,
Birds whistle my ears into
The new harmonic day,
Grass-cutters chop my dreams
Short.

My dog licks my tired eyes open
Soaking them with love,
Fresh coffee tingles my senses
As caffeine runs through my veins,
Counting grains of sugar instead of
Counting my parking allowance.

Despite my lack of sleep,
Baggy eyes and aching bones,
I still miss my Sunday mornings
When even what seems like mayhem,
Is sweet tranquility.