Sunday Morning

By Kelly Grace Thomas

 

This Sunday morning,

between cracking eggs and pouring the coffee

I celebrate our unfinished story.

The way our paths danced like marigold autumn leaves.

Circling, circling, circling.

This Sunday morning

I must put away the excuses,

because it is still running away

even if you’re not alone.

I have been letting the laundry pile up.

Mountains of pathwork dresses where I was a different person every night.

They say time you enjoy is not wasted

but time is begging to starting asking questions where the answer

will get us both into trouble.

This Sunday morning I watch the sun come up.

Let the coral fire wrap around my heart

and walk away.