Sunday Morning

Sunday morning and all is well,
The cat is napping
And the dog is,
Oh hell,
Chewing on my best slipper, again

There’s my neighbor,
Leaning over the fence ditching her friend
You know, the one who has so much sin
That the town gave her a bus ticket out

Stan’s sitting on the porch
In his two-day pout
Over some price fixing at the hardware store
And proving it
Is such a bore.

The sun’s shinning hard
The crab grass fills the yard
There’s a swing blowing in the breeze
And I’m not sure,
But, did that butterfly just sneeze?

This is the place to be,
A Sunday morning pause on the stoop
Of complacency