i have
overslept;
daylight
pouring
through
the sheer
curtains
in our room.
"if you're
awake —
i'm
bringing us
croissants
from the
bakery!"
warm toes
on cold floors;
a shirt —
yours
or mine.
sweet
tinkling
of the
wind chimes
outside;
the dull
sounds of
a possible
lawnmower
somewhere.
walking
to the
kitchen;
the apartment
is empty,
except —
our dog
is fed,
two cups
-- clean
and waiting
on the counter;
music
softly playing
on the radio;
the
gurgle
of the
coffee
machine
— a knock
on the door —
croissants
are here,
and you.
oh,
you.