Some mornings
Some mornings
it all goes awry
lid twisted on wrong
mocha pouring over me
hurry to change my clothes
all before I feed the dog
rush to the dentist
not to be late
At the same time
the sun rose today
warmed the land
tomatoes and me
first of the season
ripe for lunch
I smiled at the quiet turn in this poem.
Some mornings insist on beginning with spilled coffee.
Others end with the first ripe tomato.
Thank you for the reminder that the day doesn't always stay the way it starts. 🍅☀️
Tiny things can trap us in needless stress, and tiny things can free us from it. Your poem, holding these two small moments side by side, reminded me that some days I can choose to notice the tomatoes in the sun instead of the spilt coffee. Thank you for this gentle affirmation today.