where the writers are
Lazy Sunday

Light floods the small garden,

slowly awakening from a winter's nap.


I turn my face towards the sun,

its rays like a warming caress on my cheek.


I close my eyes,

pinpricks of light

explode behind my lids.


The cat at my side stretches.

Lazy Sunday afternoon.

© annettealaine-2013

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Evocative as ever :–)

Evocative as ever :–)