while the world was on fire

while the world was on fire   

I watched carefully 

as the low sugar 

strawberry jam 

spread across the 

thinly sliced  

sourdough batard bread, 

the smell of the

the Arabian coffee 

was intoxicating,  

our small dog "Noodle" 

chewed on her bone relentlessly,  

Carolyn did her concert in C Minor 

as she unloaded the dishwasher,

our bird clock chimed 10am with the Owl hooting, 

the rain had stopped

outside our open door to the garden 

Japanese maples rested for winter

—Bruce Linton