In Her Home

The birds

are singing 

to me.

As my 

bare feet

hit the cold

floor 

I grab my coffee.

My cats circle 

my feet below 

making sure 

I remember 

that 

they are 

part of my morning

dance.

I push

the wooden 

screened door

and allow

the cats to 

walk with me.

I walk through 

my greenhouse 

and gently 

lay my cup 

down. 

The process 

of opening up 

the windows

is my favorite 

part. 

The fresh 

morning

air 

clears out 

the nightly

dreams and

allows them

to become a reality. 

I start the process

of tending to my 

flowers and my

plants. 

Letting myself

get lost.

As I gather 

up the mason jars

I see my reflection 

in the glass.

She smiles 

at me because 

the dreams she

once had.

The focus she 

put on others

is now hers. 

And she longer

is lost

or unconnected.

She is simply

in her home.