THOUGHTS DURING MORNING COFFEE
To browse for hours among dusty books
and find an old Rembrandt print
selling for seventy-five cents,
would be great fun on this lovely day,
and after that to lunch
with a good companion
at some red and white sidewalk café,
the sun on our faces,
warming our cold ham
and cheese and brown bread,
and sparkling our glass of pinkish wine.
Then to walk by a fountain path
and be aware only of the immense quiet.
Later to go home, make roast chicken
and apple pie, and tease back at
the children playing
in the corner of the kitchen,
and finally end the day exhausted
beneath fleecy blankets
with a single thought
orbiting me to sleep,
“What a marvelous ,marvelous day.”
