The neighbor is mowing, filling my house with the rumble of the machine and the smell of green. The sun is shining. Music is playing.

The day—the day is mine.

The soft bouncing of the door in the windows-open draft.

knock-knock—wake up

knock-knock—it’s time

Sometimes you need to finish a book, even if it means three hours of sleep. And sometimes you get to re-experience the magic of coffee.

The rain sounds like little footsteps

outside my window.

and the thunder like

drawers closing

cupboards shaking

dishes dancing, quaking