Tiny Sunday Moments:
beats bleed through my son’s headphones, fingers raking keys, his head shaking to rhythms of collaboration
the youngest dog, sound asleep, not a second of hesitation, she’s claimed a patch of grass in a yard of water and mud
frustration with the paper, this past Sunday, vacant inner sections, what we’re missing, now, I may never know
the elder dog, shuffling, so slow, stubbornly sniffing his way through every other inch of curb and grass
constantly drawn to news, the screen scroll, thumbing fast, the menacing world at war, flinch as headlines, blare
on a chair, in the sun, closing eyes, listening to wind, in a moment of solitude I’d share with those who need it, more, if only I could
for #sol22