That Sunday

Wake
yawn
stretch, I
should have taught Fido
to fetch the coffee.

Sunday,
limber up to hunker down
to
sing those praises

and him
in the crown
on the cross,
is, they say
the boss.

Well
it’s a grey day
like
someone who painted by numbers
couldn’t count beyond the rainbow,

she wants more tea,
more of me
I wish
Fido
would fetch the coffee

© 2019, John Smallshaw.