early sun, ice in the bowl I hear a dog bark somewhere a car passes on the road out front, over the roof, a door closes, tinge of ice in the air's breath moving softly over my arm, the sound of birds and bees, my new heathers sit waiting - ah the alpines waiting too: the day of my joy - nothing disturbs the wide stretching blue - and I know, later, the sun will be so hot I will seek the shade. A Monday morning, 9.00 am, and my toil is all joy: out in freedom my soul.next poem