January 4th, 2009

drabble fairy

Poem: Early Start

Ah, I think Cotton has come home....Fluffy



Early Start

Once, he almost always rose before her,
but now, sometimes,
she is first up,
tending the fire,
putting on the kettle,
getting her hair under control.

She, this morning,
watches as he slumbers,
his silver hair cascading around him.
As she twists her hair into a loose bun,
his nose wrinkles a little,
as if looking for a scent that isn’t there.
As she stirs the fire,
feeding the coals carefully
to bring back a flame,
his ear twitches,
searching for a sound.
For a moment longer,
his face is at peace,
but as she smooths out her robe
and ties her obi,
he turns and reaches,
finding nothing within his grasp
but blanket and floor.

Smiling a little,
she fills the kettle
as he sits up,
looks across the room,
and watches her work.

“Good morning,” she says,
walking over to their bed.,
grabbing the blanket,
ready to fold it.
“Hungry?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he replies,
“but not for soup,”
and as she laughs, dropping the blanket,
he pulls her back into bed.
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    sleepy sleepy
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