The
greyness of the hills glows warm,
The
greyness of the fog rolls out.
All
over, a dim, yet present, shade
Of
soothing sunshine dresses the world.
A
light aura gradually envelops my room,
While
a cat nuzzles in the covers
Of
my bed.
The paleness of the light grows thicker,
The
paleness of my face bleeds richer.
On
the hearth lies a fire, crackling, spitting,
While
the breakfast begins to warm.
I
slowly begin to exist for another day,
While
I vainly wrap the covers
Around
my head.
The strongness of the walls helps greatly,
The
strongness of my bed detains me.
I
am forced to yield myself awkwardly
To
the cold, stinging floor again.
I
stumble to the kitchen unaware,
While
the cat jumps from the covers
To
be fed.
The fullness of the sky is absurd,
The
fullness of my life is a pleasure.
My
agenda of this day, this week,
Has
not an available opening.
I
think of everything that has happened,
While
I pile all my book on the covers
To
be read.
