Early morning,




before thoughts
arrive,
everything is fine:

my soul
sits with God,
each enjoying
our coffee.

By the pines,
in the first
blue-grey light,
six deer wind
between the trunks
of the trees—

a slow
lift and step
in last night’s
new snow.

To each of us,
our One
quiet being
bows to the other.

Above,
from nowhere,
first thoughts begin
to fall.