Alchemy

The windows absorb the sun
and diffuse through a mellow
mix of light.

Waking late Sunday morning
with bleary-eyed yawns
and stiff muscles. That light
shuttles a glow into the room.

I don't get up or even
look at the clock as I
feel my dog against my leg.

He is snoring quietly
with sporatic twitches
shooting through his legs.

He is running. I imagine
cats shooting away in fear
of my terrier's domain.

My domain is different, however.
I smell the heaviness of sleep
weighing on my skin.

I look at the light disfigured
through the window. Pulsating
as the wind picks up some leaves.

The alchemical mix of my life
and the pieces of things
makes the facticity of the moment
seem bare.

These little asymetrical meldings
welding the season's ends together
toward daybreaks unspoken.

This is who I am, I think
loudly enough to wake the dog.

He crawls to me with wagging tale
dragging his legs behind like
a broken (exuberant) soldier.

He licks my face with excitement
for the new day. Which is enough -

his enthusiasm pulls me out of bed
and I take him out into the world
to enjoy the sensations of the day.