On Sunday morning

She stretched her legs

Up and over the sunrise

As was only possible in those days.

Her fingers splayed

And came back together,

Started writing

In her head, until it got better.

Of love and joy

Her story went,

But by the end

Her mind turned over, and all was bent.

A phone call rang

And knocked her sideways.

Her brother’s heart

Had up and quit on Friday.

She looked around,

And laid back down

In sheets so clean,

‘Til her dreams brought prettier sounds.