Judith Kan Morning Awakening After Lloyd Schwartz’s “Nostalgia”The morning sunshine.
Pale shadows, shrinking.
Dancing dapples of waving branches.
A constant warmth, soft blankets.
The plump pillow. A white feather floating down.
Shuffling footsteps from below, far away...now nearer....now farther again. The perching birds.
Flapping wings, rustling. A dripping faucet.
A whistling kettle. The scrape of wood, the cupboard door opening.
Plopping of raindrops falling from leaves, faint tinkling after a hiss of wind. The muffled humming.
Distant clanging of pots. Leaves brushing the window, the painting of merry red, fiery gold—their
blinding colors. Wind ruffling thin tree limbs, maple.
Bubbling water. Light streaming through the window.
A chirping song. A cheerful bell, the door opening...closing.
The clanging of the alarm clock (please be quiet). Bare feet slapping cold boards, padding downstairs towards the kitchen.
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