By Marisa Torrieri

Each morning the sunlight
beckons their bodies outside.
Through shaded blinds, I watch their swan arms
slice through dewy air -
their bodies -
only an hour before, calm and asleep,
weave magic into the gentle breeze.
7 a.m. casts a spell
upon thier spirits -
they inhale mornings
with Tai Chi -
letting its essence soak
down to the tunnels
of their souls.

From my backyard,
behind windows, I sometimes watch,
their energy flow,
refreshed not with coffee,
but with simplicity.

Finger over finger,
hands cup pellets of sky,
black silk heads bow low,
tucking into cocoons of silence,
listening as the atmosphere
responds in echo.

Alarm clocks blast an unwelcome awakening,
while tree limbs embrace the gradual bits of
warm sun,
erect and poised to face the days.
I hit the snooze button, close my eyes,
and tilt my head back to sleep.