Sunday morning, still dark out
I have tea, a cat on the couch
and a quiet house
the world outside is still, silent
partiers are home in bed by now
and it's too early
for even the most industrious
to be out of the house
no one else stirs at this hour
I believe for a moment
until my quiet is interrupted
by the thump of the paper
on the front door
reminding me that
some people do real work
on Sunday mornings
trying to pay attention to what's going on in the world around me
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