Sunday silence

Sunday silence

           a heavy frost
           though still the birds
woke me
           with their spring song

how strongly their instincts
           are attuned to shifts
in the quality of light
           how anxious they are
to rehearse
           their love calls

           you were a thought
in my head
           and I awoke
with memory of you
           obstinate in its occupation
of my mind
           my heart

In the Sunday silence
           I sip coffee
alone for all the world
           and recall the ritual
we shared 
          our calm and loving conversation
over the first coffee
           of the day

John Lyons


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