Perfect Day

Wake up to white curtains wafting in on a sea zephyr. Watch the shadows dash to and fro over walls, rainbows from prisms in the window flirting with the shade. Warm feet on sun heated tiles, push past curtains onto the patio, gaze at the water. Throw off robe and leap into liquid, float awhile before sculling back to shore. Breakfast, brown eggs, fresh avocado, nectarines and a handful of almonds. Then to the page, the guitar, the dance. A walk into the pueblo, through market stalls, a café con amigas and then a reading, group meditation, adventure with body and spirit. A stranger who feels like home. Back now to wander the familiar vistas of mi casita, the anarchistic sunset, revolutionary moon. A paw, some fingers blowsing through the air, painting provocative dreams over flesh and eyes. Drift into sleep with a sense of being held, rocked, whether alone or conjoined until morning.