Sunday Morning

Sunday morning Slow beats seething Through the screens in The open windows Eggs frying Legs shaking After we stayed lying So long in bed Sunday morning Both of us reading And looking up occasionally Looking up occasionally Sunday morning You're doing your thing And I am doing mine Speaking words More a formality 'Cause we can feel we Are of one mind Sunday morning Sheets still warm Kitties swarming Around our feet Life comes easy Your sweet company Making it so complete Of all the Monday through Fridays We joined the crusade Of all the Saturday nights In which we were made Of all the exorcisms I've done with your ghosts Still it's Sunday morning I miss you the most