Morning Ablution

Daylight spills across the sill

Pushes at my eyelids, still

Recumbent in slumber.

With one eye I peek

To see if it is dawn,

Stretch a bit and yawn.

Snuggle back into my bed,

Curl up with my pillow .

Cover my head ,

Not ready for the morn.

Aroma of coffee

Wiggles past my nose.

Tells me someone's astir

Perhaps its time I rose.

Think about going out,

See what's there.

Glad summer days are gone

Cool, crisp Autumn here.

Wonder if the ducks have left

On their journey South.

Gad, I hate the feel of

What folks call morning mouth.

Pad across the floor

Toenails clicking ,

Look at them , notice

Their length needs snipping

Take a sip of water,

Go into the kitchen to greet

Whoever is up.

Think about my morning ablution,

My feet on dew damp grass.

Chilly on this September morn

Still I know I will perform

My daily rituals.

Roll about in wet, wild grass .

My coat glistens in the sun,

Shake myself, dew diamonds flying .

Voice my pleasure at the thought

Of spending my day lying

In front of fall's first fire.

Celebratory sparks shower

Upwards from the log.

Makes me sigh with pleasure

Makes me glad I am a dog.

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