It was a Sunday

Mornings have become a challenge, The light. I can't stand it. It shimmers through my bedroom. The blinds get forced by the wind you see, as I have opened the window slightly to make the room that slight bit chillier.

When I do rise, the blinds stay low. They allow only the smallest sift of light to enter. a small end of wintery glow.

And then the day begins, blinds eventually rising to expose the world.

I left today, wanting to explore further, seeking a new clarification.

Justin Batchelor