Awake early with stiffness,
having been made a contortionist
by a small dog taking up half my side of the bed,
I find opportunity.
and I am free from feeling the need to be near him –
to care for,
to be present
as I am gone for so much of the time
for work and other obligations.
I wash dishes and feed the little bed-stealing dog
who will soon lie on the landing back in dreamland.
I see the teetering stack of mail that needs sorting
and the cobweb in the windowsill
but it is the dust dancing in a shaft of sunlight
that stops the endless list of things to do from binding tightly around my brain.
I check on my mate – still sleeping peacefully
then make the choice to sit,
to catch up with kindred spirits
but connected magically through caring and computers.
I choose to read,
to listen to the promise of a quiet Sunday morning.