Beauty for Sunday Scribblings

Beauty

It’s early Sunday morning
and every window
I look out of
is filled with golden
sunshine.

The forehead
of the house across
the street
is shiny and creased
by the shadow
of tree limbs.

The white birches
on Mt. Forist
are lifting their arms
like they’re taking
a shower in the spray
of the sun.

My off-white curtains
form a triangular
frame for the blue sky
peeking in through
the cedar branches.

And I’m sitting here,
in my navy blue
flannel pajamas,
the ones with stars
and crescent moons,
like the one I saw
last night,
sipping these bits
of beauty
one window
at a time.