this morning the skies are gray and the air is warm and dry like a mid-summer day.
this morning i stopped at Tim Horton’s and got a cup of oatmeal and a black coffee.
this morning i sit in my office planning for a day of phone calls and emails, and too little design.
this morning when i was young i worked outside tilling the soil and tending the plants and earning callouses on my hands.
this morning the birds call out in the quiet, reminding me of the days i worked the earth and toiled in sweat.
this morning it’s quiet inside, but soon the phone will ring and my day will start and i’ll forget this thought.
this morning i want to go outside and hoe the ground and smell the richness of the compost and eat lunch in the shade.
this morning the train rumbles on the tracks two blocks away and the bus roars by and and a siren wails.
this morning, like any other morning.
copyright 2018, joseph e bird