First, walking the
to inhale the beauty of the
and beaming to sunlight
a chorus of
Now, a joy this morning, as
I sit, in my underwear, yes,
in my underwear, at the patio table.
The drip dribble splash of the fountain;
a light feather of breeze awakening
the skin on my naked back.
I am blessed with this grace and communion
of this morning’s religion, making me shudder
to remember, that when we experience something
or someone in their beauty, we
experience their truth.
(Maybe tomorrow I’ll share the uncensored writings
I’ve entitled, Writing in your underwear).