
Days with no plan
Are my favorite sort
I tackle cleaning projects
That have grown
Into piles
Of junk
For the trash
Or the recycling
For donating
Or safekeeping
Or not
At will.
I sip coffee
In an old pink chair
On the de-cluttered back porch
While the cats nap
By the tall windows
With the wavy old glass.
I think about how nice
My long hot shower will be
And about grabbing a coffee
From the local cafe
That always buzzes with life
And conversation
(A little caffeine hive)
Before taking my time
With the rest of the day;
Strolling around looking at dusty antiques
Or new books
Or returning to my chair
To read
Or not.
Before 10am
I filled a garbage bag
With random junk from the basement
While the cats ran around me
Getting into all the new hiding places
Knocking things over
Being cats.
After my morning meditation
I drifted off to sleep
And dreamed I was happily drunk
And tickling a chubby baby.
I’ve been sober for over three years now.
