My Blue French Doors

Laying upon the sunlit floor
In front of my blue french doors
Framed by large window panes
Morning sun floods the room
Nestled against tan colored rugs
My head laid upon the softness of a red bathrobe
Wrapped around my shoulders
Warmth from the sun lingers
Soaking into my day
To just be me . . .
I on my side
Glance over
Folded hands
Tucked underneath my head
My hands
My fingers
My knuckles
My wrinkles
My lines
My eyes follow
Vast moving streams across my hands
Valleys & then mountain peaks
Traveling as a caravan across the plains
Transverse blue tones where once
Great oceans soared
Tides of unbelief
A new tsunami of unbridled grief
Shores eroded forever more
Can’t rebuild
Must shore up!
When did I grow so old?

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