2025
Here’s a poem about sitting in the sunlight,
the late-afternoon-in-March sunlight,
sucking down coffee and waiting on a surge
of Serotonin or inspiration to flick
the switch that electrifies our spirit.
Praise be to the dogwood, waving its blossoms
in this lilting breeze. Praise be as well
to the pandemic winding down like
a neglected clock, leaving us foggy
in our idea of what to do but eager
to relearn the business of living.
Absorb the sunlight. Drink the coffee.
Wake the heck up. We’re still alive.
Author: Robert L. Penick
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