Morning arrives in its routine
of aches and grumbles, but I welcome
the sight of a coffee cup sitting in its usual place.
We are weathered, chipped friends
ready to perform
our ritual hand to handle
dance across tile to an oak chair.
There are blessings in ordinary.
I watch the wild life outside my window
with my hands wrapped around the warmth
of familiar, and gather strength from a companion
who never utters a word.
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much love...