Prose Poem: Lazy Sunday

I love this room with its queen-size bed, decked with blue-green cushions that call my name in colored tones of embroidered silk. This room with its tall windows, and the sun stealing in through gaps between wooden lattices, casting ribbons of bright yellow on my brown hardwood floor. It’s hard to tear out of its delicious embrace every morning at eight. And head out into a day full of meetings like the bumper to bumper jammed 405. How I long for the comforting parlance of this room while at work, buried under piles of deadlines. I count my week backwards to Sunday, when I too can burrow deep like squirrels, moles and gophers do. Today, I shall draw the blinds longer and burrow deeper. Today I enjoy a lazy Sunday!

architecture bed bedroom ceiling
Photo by Pixabay on

Lazy Sunday inspired by DailyPost Prompt

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