Zen

Coffee brewing.

Heat humming up through the vents.

You snore peacefully in my bed.

A perfect morning.

Oh, and sitting at my desk, in my office, writing in a notebook under my pretty new desk lamp.

A room of my own.

Where I can close the door and write.

Virginia Woolf would be proud.

Buddha with Broken Hand agrees.

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One thought on “Zen

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