sunday morning was sunny.
it was so beautiful. i felt and was carefree..
proper folks were at church with their families, their beads, and their bibles..
i put on my boots, gloves, and a tattered scarf.
i filled my flask.
birds were singing.
the wind was icy and biting.
the noonday shadows were deep; the ice was blue.
under the icy pond, the water was running swift.
the phone was sleeping snug in its case at home
there were none to save or hustle me.
i love january sunday mornings.
in the background were the birds improvising cheerful songs of spring.
i don't think about anything but the carefree irreplaceable joy and promise of a lonely icy sunny january morning.